The King and the Lionheart
by coeur-d'astronaute
Summary: Prompt Generator Series, Vol. II: A collaborative project with an interesting royal leads to something more.
1. Chapter 1

_Past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind._  
_Though far away, though far away, though far away_  
_We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same._

The gates were looming and oppressive and everything that a castle's gates should look like. As the car waited at the entrance and the driver spoke through the monitor, Felicity looked up at the golden coat of arms presiding over the large black fence and gulped. It had to be her, she thought, glancing at the golden plaque on the wall. Anxiously she fiddled with her folder and scanned the pages inside before giving up on it, slamming it shut, and exhaling so quick it made her a bit dizzy.

Her nerves only worsened when the gate actually opened and for some reason this wasn't a horrific dream she would wake up from any moment. Instead it was true, she realized as the car slowly made its way inside and the gates creaked shut behind it. She was inside of the grounds of the royal family. There was no turning back, as much as she really wanted. Exasperated, Felicity fanned herself with her folder and looked at the immaculate driveway and landscaping. It looked as if every blade of grass was cut by hand. And the freaking fountain was bigger than Felicity's flat. Everything looked photoshopped, but it wasn't. It was surreal and uncanny and dreadful.

"What the hell did I get myself into?" she whispered, clutching the binder to her chest until her knuckles hurt.

If she thought the gate had been imposing, then that edifice of the palace itself was damn near improper. The car stopped in front of the largest outdoor staircase she'd ever seen. For a moment everything was still. Felicity closed her eyes, unable to actually take in the majesty and grandeur and an entire fucking castle. Why did she take this job in this country? Why couldn't she be happy back home? That would have made sense. There was no dynasties back home. There were no palaces.

"We've arrived," The driver held his hand to help her out of the car.

"Yeah, saw that," Felicity mumbled, eyes growing wider as she stepped out and felt insanely tiny next to the building. Little men in ridiculous costumes stood guard with ridiculously antique weaponry at the stairs and door. Flowers were sprouting despite it being fall. A car that was worth more than Felicity's education sat just ahead of her car. "So this is just the palace," Felicity shrugged. "They couldn't find a bigger one?"

When she turned to the driver, she found an unamused man staring at her.

"Right then," she nodded. "I will just... knock. I guess."

But her feet didn't move quite yet. Instead she was rooted there at the foot of the stairs. She took a few deep breathes and asked herself the same stupid question that had somehow gotten her into this exact predicament: What's the worst that could happen? Apparently the worst that could happen would be this - standing outside of the palace about to propose a charity in a foreign country where they might still use the guillotine. She took another deep breath and made a mental note to google guillotine-able offences before she took a step.

"Docteur Smoak?" a man in a smart looking suit hurried down the steps with a trail of other smartly dressed and important looking people in tow. "You are early. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello, hi," she greeted, afraid her palms were sweating. She wiped them subtly on her skirt. "It's nice to meet you."

"If you please," he extended his arm for Felicity to take. "I will guide you to the reception. I think his Highness is in, and you will be right on time."

"You actually call him, his Highness, to his face?" she asked dumbly as they ascended the stairs to the veranda and front door.

"Of course," the man smiled widely. "That is his title."

"I thought it was just... a thing... in movies..." Felicity trailed off nervously again. The gentleman laughed and patted her arm.

"We are allowed to be more informal if he allows, although custom dictates that even with permission, we still address him by his titles," he explained. Felicity tried to make notes in her head. "His Serene Highness, because after the death of Prince Robert, the title was passed down, even though his mother is acting regent."

"Still?" Felicity asked dumbly.

"Oui, still," he smiled graciously. "Until court appoints him fully, he is title only."

"I won't have to meet the Queen, correct?" Felicity swallowed again as they opened the large door.

"Non," the man smiled, dropping her arm and allowing her to enter on her own. "To the chambers, please," he directed a few of his entourage. Eventually he turned to French, giving them directions Felicity could only somewhat understand. It didn't matter. She heard it with just one ear. She found herself gazing up at the marble railings and stairs and beautiful wallpaper and it was everything she ever imagined Cinderella's house looked like, come to life. Everything looked as if she weren't allowed to touch it, and it made her grip her folder a bit tighter and hold it tightly like a shield in front of her chest. It even smelled like the richest air she'd ever breathed.

"Docteur, this way," the man corralled her quietly down the hall after the minions had dispersed. The men in the ridiculous pants and weapons closed the door behind them. "You are new to this country, oui?" the guide asked quietly. His words seemed to echo enough in the expansive room as their shoes clacked along the beautiful floor.

"It's that obvious?" Felicity returned nervously.

"Only slightly," he laughed. "Don't worry, you don't have to be nervous. We do not hold people in the dungeons anymore."

"What about guillotine?" she mumbled, nervously surveying the paintings that adorned the walls in their elegant frames.

"Pardon?" he asked, leaning forward.

"These are lovely," she smiled.

The stroll through the house only made Felicity more anxious. The palace was a labyrinth and it felt as if they didn't get anywhere at all, though they kept walking. Along the way, the guide pointed out a few things and tried to put her at ease. She forgot everything he said, the moment he said it. She could barely pay attention.

"So they actually live here?" she asked as he pointed to the portrait of the royal family.

"The youngest, she is away in boarding school, as is custom," he explained, "but yes, the rest reside here. The living quarters are on the other side of the grounds, however." The climbed a set of stairs that seemed never-ending. The entire place was never-ending. The ceiling was never-ending. "If you will wait here, His Serene Highness will be with you momentarily."

"Thank you," Felicity stuttered as he bowed and made his leave.

She stood, stark still in the middle of the receiving room. Another guard stared vacantly ahead against one wall. It seemed as if she could only move if someone were guiding her, and now, she didn't know what she was allowed to do.

What's the worst that could happen? she taunted herself as she looked around the room. Everything felt so elegant and she felt so underdressed. Nothing less than a ball gown seemed proper enough. She should have looked at the dress code or something, she chided herself. Or looked up how to address him, or what she was allowed to say or that whole guillotine thing because it was really bothering her now. She wrung her hands nervously and fretted over the hem of her dress and pulled at her necklace like a tick.

"Her Royal Highness will see you now," doors opened, leaving Felicity feeling like how she imagined a deer must feel when a semi is barreling towards them.

"_Her_?" she asked stupidly, still not moving. A maid stood beside the door after calling for her, not even looking at the soon-to-be roadkill that couldn't move. "There must be a mistake," she tried, taking a few steps forward nervously and speaking quickly and with a low tone to the woman who opened the door. "I'm not supposed to have to meet the queen, okay? That wasn't the deal. I was supposed to meet the guy, the prince, because well, for some reason I can get less nervous with that title because all the stories I know there is a king, and I don't know why you guys do it differently," she leaned close to the poor maiden who tried to not laugh at this scared foreigner.

"There's no queen here," a voice called from the office. "You can come in. I won't have you tarred and feathered or something ghastly like that." Felicity felt every muscle in her body freeze and constrict. Every. Single. One.

"I'm so sorry I unloaded all of that on you," Felicity leaned forward and whispered to the woman who opened the door. She closed her eyes really tight and tried to regain herself before entering the sunlit room.

It was nearly blinding, but Felicity took a few more steps into the light despite the desire to curl up in a ball and die already. This room had even more items Felicity was afraid both cost more than her life and she shouldn't touch. It was like walking through the glasswares section at a department store. And she hated it because she wasn't the most graceful.

"Docteur Smoak?" a face she recognized approached from behind a large, beautiful desk. Everything was so ornate, Felicity could barely function. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

"No!" Felicity said too quickly. "Totally fine... Your serene beautiful... highness," she trailed each word out, trying to find the proper phrase that became jumbled in her head. "Your Royal Supreme Sovereignty?" she tried again, in question form, shaking her head at how ridiculous it sounded. "Empress Serene Princess? No. Um... Your Highness Prince..." Felicity stopped and shook her head, wide-eyed and already mortified and weary.

"You're cute," the princess grinned wildly.

It didn't help that the... whatever she was... had those eyes that made Felicity's tongue feel heavy in her mouth, and a smile that made her ribs feel like they were a fist around her lungs, clenching almost as tightly as her stomach. The smile only grew wider at Felicity's confusion. She lived in a castle and was heir to a vast fortune. It wasn't fair that she was that beautiful.

"I am Her Royal Highness, Princess Sara," the royal in question held out her hand. "You're supposed to say Her Serene Majesty when you address me the first time," she leaned forward and whispered. The maid by the door giggled slightly and cleared her throat to cover it. "You can just call me Your Majesty or Highness or ma'am, if that helps."

Tremblingly, Felicity shook her hand and nodded. Mortified wasn't even a good enough word. It wasn't accurate. She was dead. That was it. She was dead and this was purgatory. Only it couldn't be, because the beautiful princess called her cute, and that calmed her somewhat.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she recited.

"God, that sounds dreadful," the princess shook her head. "How about just Sara?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Felicity nodded. They kept shaking hands, Felicity unsure of how to let go, Sara simply amused by the foreigner in her presence who was petrified of her very existence. The accent did it, for Felicity. It hadn't the entire time she lived in the country of just under a year, but now, she understood it for some reason. Because it sounded absolutely devious coming from a mouth like that.

"And do you prefer to be called Docteur?" she asked, still grinning widely at the wide-eyed blonde.

"Me? Yeah. Yes, I'm a doctor. Doctor Felicity Smoak," she said quickly, dropping the princess' hand. "Just Felicity, is fine. It's great. Or Doctor. Or Docteur, as you would say it. If we're formal. I don't care. Either words. Okay." She swallowed and willed herself to stop.

"You can relax," Sara leaned forward a bit. "We don't use the guillotine anymore." Felicity became more struck and nodded weakly. "Have a seat, s'il vous plaît." As she pulled away she sauntered to the other side of the desk and Felicity sat quickly. "Can I offer you something to drink? Café or tea or water?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Felicity managed. One sentence down, perfectly executed. Build on that, she told herself.

Sara called to her maid in French, who then disappeared. Felicity gripped her binder tightly and surveyed the desk, afraid to meet her eyes again. Sara allowed herself one moment to survey the blush of the doctor's cheeks and find it completely adorable.

"You were expecting my brother, then?" Sara began.

"Yes... ma'am," Felicity said. It felt so foreign to address someone who was near her own age with such a formal title. "Not that you're not great. Because I mean. I don't know anything about you, but I had it planned out. I could have addressed him properly. I think," she paused and looked up, steeling herself. "Yes, I expected to meet with him."

"He's usually not awake before noon," Sara confessed, straightening some of the folders on her desk. "I'm sorry for whatever mistake was made in scheduling. I usually deal with this type of thing anyway." The maid returned and placed a cup on the desk. "Merci, Colette." The maid curtseyed. Felicity kicked herself for not learning how to curtsey. Of course that would come up in a palace. "I make you nervous then?" Sara asked after taking a sip of the hot liquid. She looked over the edge of the mug and took another, eyeing Felicity curiously. It made Felicity's stomach flip.

"Castles make me nervous," Felicity corrected. "I never knew that, until today. Of course I've never been in one... How could I have guessed? The years of paralyzing fear of authority figures..."

"Not many castles where you come from?" Sara smiled.

"Just on mini golf courses," Felicity nodded quite seriously. "And birthday bounce houses."

"Mini golf?" The princess asked, pushing away her mug.

"I'll let you look that one up when you have time," Felicity decided. She also made a note to google the princess. And to confirm the guillotine thing. Surprisingly, Sara jotted herself a note, which both amused and surprised Felicity.

"Okay, Docteur Felicity," Sara lifted her head after writing and setting her pen down gracefully. She also had a lovely jaw, Felicity noticed. It was really nice. And her neck. All of her. Her hair too. Geeze. "You are here to ask me for money?" Felicity froze. Sara smiled. She enjoyed doing that to people. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I read your report."

"I brought this," Felicity handed her the folder, knocking over a cup of pens in the process. "I'm sorry," she stood quickly and scrambled to sweep them up. "I'm sorry," she struggled to put them back. Sara just took the binder and chuckled.

"It's fine, Docteur Smoak," she assured her. "Just pens." Felicity slowed her movements, but still tried to straighten things as she sat.

"You work at le Hôpital des Enfants Malades, correct?" Sara asked as she perused the folder.

"Yes, Your Highness," Felicity nodded, knotting her fingers in her lap.

"You've been there for ten months?" she flipped the page.

"Yes," Felicity nodded again.

"Why?"

"That's when they hired me," Felicity spoke earnestly. Sara stopped and cocked her head slightly with a grin before looking up. "Oh! You mean why do I work there?" Sara nodded once. "I was offered a position after I met Doctor Batteaux during my internship. It was a conference held at my university hospital, and my professor studied with him. I submitted my research on Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and he offered me a research and practicing position to continue. And I've been working with a genome formation that will hopefully allow for more specified approaches to therapy in embryo. And when I'm not researching, I get to do surgery on little guys and put them back together."

"But why did you accept it?" Sara asked, watching Felicity's hands move while she told her story. Her question made Felicity stop in her tracks and think. She wasn't sure she had a proper answer.

"It's one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world," she finally decided. "I like the patients. I feel like I am helping. There is less of a politics here, I guess." She kept listing. "Unfettered research for the most part. Amazing colleagues. No one looks at me like I'm too young just because I skipped a few grades back home. This city. Getting far away from home." Sara smiled at the last part and went back to looking in the folder.

"That was my grandmother's favourite hospital," Sara nodded to herself. "She visited there often, to see the children."

"I've seen pictures," Felicity offered. "Your Highness."

"How did you get set here after only ten months? You must have won the lottery." Sara was lost, reading the words on the page. She picked up her pen and made notes on a piece of paper.

"Won, or lost," Felicity nodded quickly. "Depending on how you look at it, I guess."

"Sorry?" she looked up quickly.

Just as Felicity opened her mouth, the maid appeared and whispered in Sara's ear.

"If you could excuse me one moment, Docteur Felicity Smoak," she stood and capped her pen, setting it atop the folder. "I'll just be a moment."

"Yes, no, of course," Felicity stood because she'd seen gentlemen in movies do that when a woman left the room and she assumed it applied to the present situation more than any other education she had. "Your Majesty." Sara faltered and looked at this girl standing nervously and followed the maid to take her phone call in the side office.

With a large breath, Felicity flopped back into the chair and ran her hands along her cheeks.

"You're doing fine," a voice whispered from the door. Felicity looked up quickly to earn a thumbs up from the guard. She just nodded gratefully and tried to straighten herself.

Muffled words came through the door, quite loudly and quickly. Felicity couldn't understand them, even if they had been in English, but she knew that things were bad.

"I'm sorry," Sara returned, holding a hand out so Felicity wouldn't stand again, before she took her seat. "Pressing princess issues." Felicity never thought she would hear those words because she never thought anyone would need to use them in her presence. But it was a day of firsts. "Where were we?" Sara asked, picking up the folder and flipping pages again. There was less of a smile on her lips, Felicity noticed, and her shoulders were more rigid. Someone was getting their head cut off, that was the pressing issues.

"The hospital," Felicity offered after clearing her throat.

She watched Sara not open her mouth again, but read through the pages more carefully, taking a break only to sip her mug and set it down quietly. She was like a cat, Felicity decided. She didn't make noise and she didn't waste movements. She was slick and graceful, sleek and precise in all action.

"You want more money than the annual allotment from the government?" Sara looked up, holding her pen on some passage in the notebook.

"Yes," Felicity nodded, suddenly feeling absurd for asking for money for the hospital that was already well funded. But she had drawn the short straw, good or bad as it was, and she was doing it because it meant new equipment that most of the labs needed to keep up with the research everyone wanted.

"You came to ask for a donation for..." Sara scanned the page. "A microscope?"

"Well, not quite. It's a very powerful microscope, and also an enhanced three-dimensional printer and internal imaging machine that we desperately need for future research and diagnosis, as we've had to retire two machines already since I've been there."

"And you want these other machines that I can't even begin to pronounce?" Sara continued, skimming the page.

"Those are just technical names, I can explain-" Felicity began.

"While completely updating the technology and increasing the number of beds and staff?"

"The more patients, you see, we have coming from all over-"

"You need these things to cure diseases I've never heard of, and I doubt a large number of my people even have."

"It's not that they don't-"

"This is an outrageous request," Sara closed the book. "If I've summed it up correctly."

"You haven't," Felicity leaned forward slightly.

"You want money we don't have to fund researches that you are not even sure will help for things that are not pressing issues," Sara shrugged, playing with her pen.

"It's not," Felicity shook her head, frustrated. "It's not outrageous," she insisted, sputtering somewhat, surprised at her own insistence. "This is one of the best paediatric hospitals in the world, and children from all over the globe come here because we work in the theoretical, we try things today because they don't have a week or a month or even a year and we work on diseases that people think are too small or don't affect enough people. And to keep doing that, to keep pushing away those days and weeks and years, to keep fighting all illnesses, regardless of how relevant they are because there is still one child who is suffering in a pool of one hundred, to do that we have to have the best equipment, and attract the best minds," Felicity was speaking with her hands and she found herself standing up. The realization made her somewhat uncomfortable, but it was too late now. Her lips outshot her brain. "It is not outrageous to ask for the best equipment to help these children, or for the best people to use it, or to be in the race to cure thousands of problems that should have been solved by now. And the diseases we are studying are important, whether you can pronounce them or not." Felicity somehow realized that she was standing and speaking quite heatedly to a member of a royal family that was famous for being very liberal with their beheadings and she swallowed her tongue and tried to swallow her entire body to disappear. "Your Highness," she added quietly, sitting down quickly.

Sara sat perfectly still the entire time, quite amazed at how easy it was to rile someone so passionate about their ideals. She had an inkling, a nagging thought while this doctor spoke, that she was the most interesting person she'd ever met and this was the most interesting meeting she'd ever had because it was so real and so unintentionally entertaining. And then she spoke to her like that, completely lost in where she was. Sara also found that she liked when she spoke with her hands and gnawed at the inside of her lip after, afraid to look up. She even allowed herself an extra moment to consider Felicity's eyes, and how sweet they looked despite the fear that sat there for the past few minutes.

"I can't give you the money you are requesting," Sara finally broke the news, leaning forward and folding her hands over the folder. "It is an astronomical request, and I suspect that the colleagues who sent you knew that it was a death march." Felicity nodded and looked down. "We get one every year from every organization in the country. Everyone has their hands out, everyone is saving the world, Docteur Smoak."

"I understand," Felicity stood with a nod. "I apologize."

"There's no need," Sara remained seated. "You were very convincing." Felicity's ears pricked at that. "We can't fill this order, but my grandmother would want to do something. And for her, we will make a donation."

"Really?" Felicity's eyes grew wide. "I mean, yeah, okay."

"And I don't see why le Hôpital des Enfants Malades cannot be the premier charity for the Christmas Ball to close the season," Sara added.

"I'm not sure what that means, but I am very grateful, your Highness," Felicity bowed a little. She was afraid to curtsey. Sara laughed again, finally far away from the phone call that pulled her out and soured her mood.

"It means you will probably get half of what you wanted, but that's still quite a bit," Sara stood and explained. "And you better find a gown."

"Oh," Felicity gulped. More of this. More of the formalness and palaces and castles. More chances to embarrass herself in unfathomable ways. She might be the only person in the world that dreaded going to a gala with a royal family.

"Do you mind if I keep this?" Sara asked, oblivious to Felicity's worry already. "I want to look over a few more things."

"Yeah, no, of course," Felicity agreed. "I can send over copies if it will help."

"I think one will be fine," Sara chuckled, moving around the desk. She checked her watch and noted the time. "If there's nothing else, I will walk you out."

"Of the castle?" Felicity asked dumbly.

"It's the one time I'm able to escape this office," Sara confessed. "And I have a few minutes before my conference call."

"Thank you, your Highness," Felicity followed as the doors were thrown open at the princess' request.

Felicity was on cloud nine. She might have even been on cloud ten. She'd triumphed over the fool's errand. She couldn't contain her smile, even if she wanted.

"How are you liking this country?" Sara asked as she walked down the hall with the foreigner in tow, still with head darting in all directions to see everything at once, afraid to miss a thing.

"It's beautiful," Felicity confessed. "I haven't seen much, with work and my hours. But it's very lovely."

"How is the hospital?" the princess asked, somewhat upset by the idea of failing machines or want occurring in a place her grandmother held so dear.

"It's fine," Felicity measured her words, afraid of losing what she'd gained. "The kids are great." Sara smiled at this. Maids passed them in the hall and bowed while Sara nodded and they continued on their way.

The walk grew quiet after that, as both could not figure out what to say to the other, both trying to observe the formalities while at the same time feeling as if they were supposed to say something. As they descended the staircase, Sara struggled to figure out what made her walk this girl out in the first place. She'd never done it before, and she didn't have time between this meeting and her next. It might have been the eruption, or the fact that she felt as if she'd smiled more in the past fifteen minutes than in the past fifteen years.

"Do you miss home?" Sara finally asked as they strolled past the paintings that bored her as a child forced to learn their history. Felicity was struck slightly by this personal question, but also because she didn't know how to answer it.

"Parts of it," she nodded to herself, staring at her feet as they made their way down the hall. "Sometimes."

"When I was away at school, I thought I would miss home, but I didn't at all," Sara confessed. "And then I was away so long, I forgot all about it until I returned. And I fell in love with it in a way I can't describe. Does that make sense?" Sara turned to Felicity and felt oddly inappropriate as well.

"It does," she assured the royal. "But I think our situations are different. I might get homesick over a castle, too." Though she was being completely truthful and sincere, Sara laughed and covered her mouth at the outburst. "I just mean," Felicity tried again, "that you have a history here. I don't have any roots. And the only thing that makes me homesick is the idea of a belly buster burger," Felicity confessed.

"Belly buster burger?" Sara repeated slowly. Felicity burned twelve shades of red.

"It's just a local burger place back home. I haven't found a guilty pleasure here yet. Sometimes a guilty pleasure food is what makes a place feel like home. Every place needs a food that just makes things better, cure hangovers, tastes good at three in the morning, is perfect for lunches on days when it's beautiful outside and you want to sit on a park bench..."

"You have a peculiar attachment," Sara said, still confused. "I hope my country gives you a home you would miss if you left," Sara offered as they entered the reception. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Docteur Felicity Smoak." She held her hand out to be shook.

"Thank you so much, Princess," Felicity tried, shaking her hand. Sara held it and kissed her cheeks, a custom Felicity was growing to enjoy the longer she lived there.

The doors were opened for her again, and even from the steps she spotted her car and driver waiting at the bottom. Walking back through the doors felt like an accomplishment and though the nerves were still there, they had subsided somewhat now that the task was over. Felicity took a large breath of fresh air that still seemed different than air anywhere else in the world because it came on the grounds of a palace.

"Perhaps I should visit the hospital sometime," Sara offered after Felicity took a few steps. "So you can show me where my money will be used."

"Of course," Felicity jumped at the chance. "Anything to help. I can open a surgery, if you'd like," she was off to the races, her mouth well ahead of her brain. "You can see the research we've been doing. It might look like beakers and junk, but I swear we can explain it. And the kids. The kids will love it if you come. One of my girls. Not _my_ girls. But a girl who is a patient. A little girl. She dressed like a princess. Not to berate the fact that you are a princess, which is totally cool and all. But she dresses like a fairy tale one. And she would love to meet you. Do you have a crown? That's inappropriate. Of course you have one. You don't have to wear it all of the time. Which is news to me -"

"You're cute," Sara grinned the same way she did when Felicity first stepped into the office. Those words made Felicity shut up as quickly as they had the first time. She blushed so hard she could feel it crawling under her skin. She wanted to open her mouth, but she didn't know what to say to that. "Have a safe trip, Docteur Smoke," the Princess waved from the door. "À la prochaine."

Safely back in her car, Felicity allowed herself a celebratory dance and cheer and yell, fully committed to celebrating the fact that she not only got money for the hospital that she loved, but that a princess thought she was cute. Not just any princess - a gorgeous princess. And not just once, but twice!

Her heart never slowed as the car made its way back out the front gate and towards the hospital. It didn't stop the entire time she was retelling a lot of her experience to her colleagues and delivering the good news to everyone. Her heart was sprinting wildly out of control as it had before the meeting, though now it was manageable and spurring Felicity towards an overwhelming happiness that she doubted could be beaten by anything in the near future. And it hit her, that that was why people loved castles.

Head spinning from the day and work she could not concentrate on while downplaying her meeting with the princess, Felicity made her way home and made it a point to spend hours googling everything she could about the woman she met. She traced bloodlines and crowns and learned what symbols on that magnificent coat of arms was, and just how big that palace was and that there were more scattered throughout the country and world. She learned many things.

On the other side of the city at roughly the same time, a certain princess in question found herself done with meetings and late for dinner with her mother. That did nothing to deter her from researching this mini golf thing. Satisfied and amused at the castles and windmills and putting, she turned her attention to a certain restaurant that busted bellies and was slightly amazed at the pictures of the food. Her final search before being summoned for dinner impatiently was for a research paper about a disease she couldn't remember but was written by a doctor she met recently.


	2. Chapter 2

_Un beau jour c'est l'amour et le coeur bat plus vite,_  
_car la vie suit son cours_  
_et l'on est tout heureux d'etre amoureux._

Morning was her least favourite time of day. More specifically it was the lonesome, depressing act of waking that bothered her. But as Sara showered and got ready quietly, revelling in her solitary actions, she tried to push away that feeling. Soon enough she would be inundated with people and voices and activities, and normally she enjoyed being alone when she could, but for some reason the isolation of morning was unfathomably lonely in a different way than at any other time of day. Sara could never explain it to herself, but she understood that she hated going to sleep some nights because only then, laying in bed, would she remember the feeling that came when she woke. Like a heavy wool sweater, soaked the whole way through, the lonesome hung to her shoulders and chest throughout the morning until it gradually dried and didn't bother her at much. She wore that sweater all of the time though, through scorching summers and blistering sunlight. It didn't matter. Sara hated it, but only slightly more than she hated being constantly surrounded by people.

If there was something she never told anyone, it would be her distrust of the morning and how it made her feel. It made her sound weak, she decided. It made her sound like a child who was afraid of the dark, or who didn't want to go to school, and she was not a child anymore. She was a member of the royal family and she was running much of the day-to-day while her brother showed face and smiled and kissed babies. No, she did not have time to be afraid of the morning and the thick woollen sweater that clung to her skin and stifled her chest until she felt like she was suffocating. And no one would ever know.

With a graceful flinging of her arms, she pushed open her curtains and brought life into her bedroom once again. It took months to convince the maids that she was capable of waking on her own once she returned from university. Their presence only made her feel more isolated. She didn't think she could handle it.

For a moment she rested her forehead on the windowpane and stared out at the gardens, lush and manicured and perfectly completed. She wanted some chaos. She wanted to see a weed or a flower with a drooping head, just once. Everything was so perfect and clinically sterile at all times. It made her nauseous. She sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head against the cool glass, readying herself for the day.

"Good morning, Dig," Sara greeted her bodyguard as she made her way into the dining room. Like clockwork he was sitting on the sofa in the living room reading the paper, as he did every morning.

"Good morning, Your Highness," he greeted, following quickly and already flipping through his book of notes as he folded the paper.

"How is the state of the world?" she asked as he fell in step with her.

"No worse than yesterday," he explained. "Except for..." he handed her the folded paper, open to a page of a tiny black and white image and headline that made Sara shake her head.

"See?" Sara asked, skimming it. "And Mom thought I was the worst one. I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"I... prefer not to answer that, Your Grace," he grinned ruefully. "However, you did not get caught skinny dipping in the headmaster's pool."

"Caught," Sara handed him the paper back. "That is the key word. Thea makes me look like an angel. Does Mom know?"

"I'm not sure, Your Highness," Digg held the chair out for Sara to sit.

"Can you try to get my sister on the phone at some point?" Sara asked, taking her seat. "Threaten her with a visit if you have to. Hopefully I can get ahead of it before Mom tears into her."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sara smiled to herself, thinking of the lashing Thea was going to receive from their mother. She had been on the receiving end more often than not, and she understood what it was like to be a princess. Essentially powerless but still restricted and ruled and regulated. It was enough to drive anyone crazy. A few years of teenage rebellion never hurt anyone, and inevitably they tempered them. The rules and their mother and the expectations of lineage and propriety broke them from the broncos of entitlement and snobbery and made them filial, dutiful members of their family and country. Sara wasn't sure when it happened. But there was a moment when she realized that this was her life, and the grief she caused did nothing but upset everyone and it wasn't worth it and wouldn't change anything. It might have been the year after her father was killed. It probably was. Or the year of the girl at college that her mother had transferred when she found out. When she thought she found happiness, Sara realized that it couldn't exist while she was a princess. And this was her life.

The thoughts did nothing to change her mind. She had to believe that there was a way to still have some of the kick in her that Thea still had. She wanted to believe that she could live a happy life and not be a cliché royal downspout. She also convinced herself that she was doing nothing wrong by visiting the doctor or the hospital. It was her duty to the public, after all.

"Busy day?" she asked over her shoulder as she left the fog of her daydream. She knew the schedule for the day already, but she wanted to be aloof so as not to betray her excitement and then to get those knowing looks and questions from her friend.

Sad as it was, she didn't have many, and her bodyguard knew her better than she liked to admit. And though she would never say it, she loved him like a father. He'd been in her life since she was eleven, and he fixed everything from scraped knees to broken hearts.

"A few calls," he read, standing beside her while she moved to pour herself coffee. "And then you wanted to visit le Hôpital des Enfants Malades. I made a call last night and scheduled it if that's okay. I can change it if you just want to get out of here today to see your sister."

"No, no," Sara shook her head quickly, focusing too hard on the perfect amount of milk in her mug. "I've rescheduled twice already. We can go."

"Plus the hot docteur," Sara's brother strode in, confident and polished. Heir to the throne and family business, he was the reason Sara's life was essentially just a placeholder. But he did his duty well, and was well loved, and Sara adored her older brother because of it all. She never wanted his life. She just envied his purpose. He was one of her few champions, and she'd forever be in his debt.

"Or the sick children," Sara retorted, ignoring him. "Maybe you should make an appearance at a hospital once in a while, Ollie." He grinned smugly as he flicked his napkin and placed it in his lap. Sara knew that it was a genetic smile and she did it too, without trying. Something about his smile felt like he had perfected it though, and could use it purposefully. That was why he was always the topic of screaming girls on streets and profiles of the hottest royal bachelors. He knew it too, which made him unbearable in a brotherly way.

"You're the philanthropist," he informed her, motioning for the butler. "I am the politician."

"I think I'm the politician," their mother swept in, regal and flowing.

"Neither of you are politicians," Sara shook her head. "You're figureheads."

"That's not very nice," Moira took her seat with a smile. "You can at least let us pretend a bit." Sara rolled her eyes and buttered her toast. "Now what is this I hear about a doctor?"

"I'm visiting le Hôpital des Enfants Malades today," Sara explained while flashing Ollie a warning. He just made a face back at her. He was in a good mood for some ungodly reason, and that made him ready to poke.

"That's lovely, dear," her mother nodded. "See? You can learn something," she pointed at Oliver. "Gorgeous doctors sound like a lovely way to spend an afternoon, and it looks great."

"And it's a hospital of sick children," Sara reminded them both.

"It is a wonderful idea, Sara," her mother smiled. "I saw the proposal for the donation. It was very impressive. Your grandmother would have loved for them to be the benefactors of the gala."

"That's why I want to visit," Sara explained quickly, hoping to distract her mother from remembering Oliver's threat of gorgeous doctors. "Grandma always loved it, and I'm afraid they might need more than the proposal stated."

"As soon as you're done there, would you make a trip up to see your sister?" Moira asked, opening the paper for herself.

"You saw it too?" Oliver asked between bites. "I can't believe she got caught. Kids these days." He shared a knowing look with Sara.

"I thought we would have taught her better than that," Sara shook her head with mock disappointment.

Moira turned the pages of the paper and sighed. When her children were together they were capable of complete and total war on her nerves, worse than anything else she ever experienced. But they loved each other and they were so happy and in the end she let them have their tiny victories when they thought she didn't know about certain things. It made her life easier. It made her feel closer to her husband, to see his spirit bursting in them.

"Just, please," she asked, eyeing her middle child. She looked the most like her husband. She had his eyes. She had his smile and shoulders and stubbornness and even laugh. "Please tell her she needs to graduate and cannot switch again in her senior year."

"You haven't talked to her?" Sara turned to find her mother watching her with a kind of look she got occasionally. It sank into her bones. It made Sara self-conscious and uncomfortable.

"I give up," Moira shrugged. "I don't know what else to do for her."

"You can't give up, Mom," Oliver shook his head. "You got both of us through those years, and look at how well we turned out. She needs you to bring the hammer down like you did on both of us." Sara nodded.

"Thea is different," Moira shook her head, unappetized by the food set before her. "Ever since your father... she just...there's no getting through to her. Please talk to her, Sara?" she stood, dropping her napkin on the table.

"I will," Sara nodded. "Digg, don't bother warning her. We'll drive up and spend the night after the hospital," she mentioned to her guard.

"Have fun on your outing," Moira moved around the table and kissed her daughter's head, smoothing the hair that was already in place. "We should go have lunch at the Batifole this week."

"Yeah, okay," Sara agreed.

"I will see you and Laurel for dinner tonight, right?" she asked her son who busied himself with his breakfast, afraid to be asked to visit Thea. He didn't do well when it came to their father or references to him, still, even after all the years.

"Of course, Mom," he looked up and nodded, giving her a smile. Sara noted that it was not the same as before, and his mood has lost its pep.

Sara waited until her mother disappeared before sighing and throwing her napkin on the table. She motioned for Digg to sit and join them, though he declined as he usually did. Maids grabbed the dishes left by the queen and scuttled about quietly. The only sound was Oliver's silverware.

"You should try to talk to her," Sara said, finishing her coffee in the quiet.

"Thea?" Oliver looked up, confused.

"No, Mom," she explained, wiping her mouth gracefully. "She's upset."

"I will, I will," he nodded. She didn't believe him, but let it go.

"And don't bring up hot doctors in front of her," Sara shook her head and stood. "I don't want to deal with her. We're just starting to get along again."

"Sara, I was just joking around," Ollie tried.

"Yeah, well it's not funny," she pushed in her chair and hung on it authoritatively.

"I was right though, wasn't I?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, assured and victorious.

"I'm going for Grandma," Sara shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

"Right," he nodded. "God, I can really clear a room, can't I?" he looked around as she took a step to leave.

"Your winning personality," she shrugged. "See you later."

"Tell Thea to not get caught!" he called after her.

That should have been the family motto, Sara thought to herself as she made her way to the car. Breakfast left a bad taste in her mouth. Waking this morning left a bad feeling in her gut that she just couldn't shake.

"When are we supposed to be there?" she asked as Digg followed quietly.

"Not until after lunch."

"Good, then we can get a good look before the expect us," she decided. "I need to get out of this house."

"You know, Your Majesty, what they said, about the doctor, and what happened with your mother before," he started, making Sara stop, suddenly. She felt her cheeks glow and her stomach knot. "She will never stop loving you, no matter what. And it's okay, to feel... however..." Digg struggled with his words. He wanted to be supportive, but he was, indeed, like a father-figure, and having this talk with his ward was... difficult.

"I met this woman once," Sara threw up her hands, exasperated. "Everyone doesn't have to plan a giant gay wedding for me because I want to honour my grandmother! She was nice and she was intelligent. Oliver said she was hot. I never said anything like that. I'm doing this for the hospital!" Digg just nodded. Sara felt her voice growing and felt embarrassed by her outbreak.

"I'll go get the car," he bowed slightly. Sara opened her mouth to apologize, but closed it quickly. That was hard for her to do. A lot of things were hard for her to do.

Sighing and running her hands over her cheeks she took a seat under the painting of her great great great great great grandmother. Pale and thin as a rail, Sara remembered being enamoured as a child, spending her time staring at the works, especially this one, as a way of becoming who she was supposed to be. The dead eyes in the paintings sometimes looked like hers, and she was convinced that they all knew some secret she would never figure out.

She dug her fingers into her eyes and breathed into her palms. The woman she sat under died at the age of twenty-three in childbirth. Her funeral was gigantic, and everyone mourned the young mother. They even named churches after her. What no one mentioned was the fact that she was sleeping with half the stable staff and couldn't stand her other two children she already had.

Running her hands over her ears and shaking her head, Sara sat in the chair under the woman and reminded herself to never get caught.

* * *

"She's cancelled twice already," Felicity shook her head, digging through the chest of a nine year old boy.

"You don't think she'll come?" the nurse asked, adding suction to the bleed. Felicity shook her head. "It must have been amazing to be inside the palace, and to meet the princess. Did you meet the-"

"Shh," Felicity hushed her, peering over the heart beating on the table. "Please, I'm sorry. Thank you," she looked up quickly then back down. Sixteen hours in surgery left her somewhat tired and unsure, and that made her nervous and extra careful as a doctor. "Release the clamp," she called over her shoulder. "Can you tell Doctor Fenix that I am nearly finished here, and he can meet the patient in post-op?" she asked without looking up.

Felicity enjoyed the quiet of the operating room. The only place she enjoyed more was the quiet of the lab. But both places required different forms of concentration and both required different forms of isolation. This was her favourite because she was able to be around everyone and be insanely focused on the task at hand that she didn't have to communicate.

She allowed herself a moment to look at the heart beating on its own without a tumour wrapping its arms around important vessels. This was the best part; closing after successfully fixing whatever was wrong. This kid would be back to normal in just months, forgetting that Felicity had looked at his heart and made him better.

Precisely and with such definite movements, Felicity went to work finishing her surgery. The only thing she looked forward to was a bad cafeteria sandwich and a long, long nap, followed possibly by a shower if she had time or cared enough.

"Let's see a princess do that," she smiled behind her mask, looking at the perfect line of stitches, calling orders to prepare for the transport to post-op.

"Well done, Docteur Felicity Smoak," a voice came in over the loudspeaker. "Congratulations."

Squinting and pushing an overhead light slightly to the side, Felicity peered into the gallery which was unusually full for this time of morning when everyone was normally on rounds or starting their own surgeries.

"Fuck," she met Sara's eyes and ducked behind the tray of tools as the patient was pushed out of the room. Breathing heavy into her mask she searched the ground to find her pride, which she was sure was down there somewhere. All she found was painful embarrassment, again. This couldn't be happening to her. Not again. Not in her own OR. She didn't even have time to mentally prepare. She couldn't even remember how to address her. But why was she so nervous? Because she couldn't stop thinking about that lopsided smile? or because she googled her? or because she called Felicity cute twice? (not that she was keeping track though). Because she was royalty? Because she had those eyes that made Felicity's stomach swirl? All the above.

"We can still see you, Dr. Smoak," Sara tried not to chuckle over the intercom.

"Just... dropped my... scalpel," Felicity stood up awkwardly. Luckily she was wearing a mask that covered her sheepish grin. She had nothing in her hands. "I lost it... Your... Serene guardianship... nope," she shook her head, feeling queasy. "His majesty highness. Princess," she decided, swallowing awkwardly. She pulled on the collar of her gown, feeling suddenly restricted and unable to breathe.

"Just wanted to keep my word to visit," Sara explained, watching the display and grinning ear-to-ear. Her morning and the events at home, her explosion at Digg, it all faded away in a way that she hadn't experienced since that meeting. "I'll let you finish cleaning up."

"Thank you, your highness," Felicity bowed awkwardly and backed up a few steps, finding Sara's smile in the gallery. "Lovely to see you, Your Majesty," she said, bowing again, still backing out.

Escaping to the locker room without further incident, Felicity peeled off her mask and drank in the fresh air greedily. She flopped onto the bench, weary and inconsolably flustered, breathing was the only thing she could think about doing without her brain exploding. Twice, in one week, she made a fool of herself in front of royalty. Twice. That had to be a record. If not, she wanted to meet whoever could beat it and they could for a club of exceptionally mortified idiots together.

"I cannot figure out how you managed to get her to give us money," Barry came in, laughing from the belly even more after seeing the dejected Felicity.

"Me either," Felicity sighed, dropping her head in her hands and closing her eyes while her hands held her up.

"I've never seen anyone so completely incapable of being human," he laughed, patting her back. Sometimes Felicity couldn't figure out why he was her best friend. Most of the time, actually. "But seeing her in person... yeah, I get it a bit. It'll be okay," he promised.

Felicity just shook her head and pulled the scrub cap from her head, throwing it on the laundry pile across the room.

"Don't worry, champ," he mussed her hair. "You did a good surgery. Are you up for dinner later? Susie is cooking pasta."

"I think I want to curl into a ball and die, so I might be busy," Felicity wrung her hands and leaned back against the lockers.

"Alright, well let me know if you change your mind," he added. "Seriously, don't worry about it. She thought you were adorable." It took a minute for his words to register, and by the time they did, he was gone. Felicity looked after him, wanting to call him back to explain, but she gave up and sat in silence for a few mortified minutes.

Showering quickly and changing, Felicity snuck out of the locker room and made it to the cafeteria in full stealth mode, completely missing any sign of the royal visitor to the hospital. Determined to hide out before she had her evening rounds, Felicity doubled around the hospital, taking the longest route possible that avoided all major tourist spots, and looked around every corner as she approached her office.

Only when the door closed and she leaned against it like she was in a horror movie chase scene, did Felicity let out a breath. Things couldn't get any worse. That was the only bright spot. She sat at her desk and opened her container of food and found solace in the fact that it would be impossible to embarrass herself further.

* * *

"By next year we will be doing that same surgery you just saw, laproscopically," Dr. Genet explained, leading Sara through one of the research corridors. She nodded and let him explain more, let the photographers take more pictures until they tired themselves out. She shook hands with docteurs and thanks them and listened to what they said.

In her head though, Sara was still grinning from the nervous surgeon she interrupted. It was too good of an opportunity though, and she didn't regret it at all. A flustered Dr. Smoak was becoming her favourite doctor.

"If it's alright, I think I'd just like to walk around," Sara said. "My grandmother spent a lot of time meeting the patients, and I'd like to move beyond the science stuff I don't understand."

"Of course, Your Highness," he smiled. "Let me take you to the patients wing."

As they walked he continued to explain what they were working on and what it meant for the hospital. He expressed gratitude while also pointing out the ways in which the money would help. Sara felt good and enjoyed it. This was part of her life that she wouldn't trade for anything.

She spent the afternoon doing the other best part of her job, which was meeting people. She sat with parents and spoke with them, took pictures, said hello to the children. She listened to their worries and she told them how they were helping. It reminded her of the pictures she saw of her grandmother sitting beside beds, reading stories to the patients. She spent hours and days volunteering, and sadly Sara didn't get to be as hands on as she would have liked. But days like today made it all worth it. Days like today negated the fact that she would have to go talk sense into Thea, and negated the fact that she was stuck listening to proposals more than actually doing anything.

"We should leave soon, Princess," Digg whispered as they walked down another hallway. "If we want to go to your sister, tonight."

"Would you please present, Monsieur Dartois," a familiar voice made Sara smile before she entered one of the last hallways.

"Bring the car around," she told him, pausing in a doorway. She held her breath, wary of attracting anymore attention.

The gaggle of doctors had thinned and she found herself roaming relatively free and unencumbered. She stood in the doorway watching Felicity listening quite intently to a child explain the chart.

"The patient is a seven year old presenting with congenital heart defect. We are day... " he paused. "Two!" he read, searching the page, "post-op of a surgery to insert a pacemaker into Amelie's heart. She says her chest is fluttery, but that is to be expected while the machine... what does it do?" Sara noticed the oxygen tank he wheeled nervously behind him as he searched the folder a bit more.

"Calibrates," Felicity offered, writing her own notes before pulling out the stethoscope from her pocket and putting it in her ears.

"Yes, until then," the little boy continued. "She is on that medicine I can't pronounce."

"Lanoxin," the doctor supplied. "And the course of treatment?" Felicity asked, listening with one eye closed to the girls chest.

"Rest," the boy explained. "And tag and hide and seek."

"At a walking pace," Felicity instructed, both to the boy and the girl. "I want you in bed for a few more days before you try going up and down the stairs, okay?" she asked the little girl who smiled and nodded. "And I might have Max here sneak you some cookies if you can keep a secret," she whispered, conspiratorially with both kids. "Your mom will be in soon, right?" she leaned over the bed and asked the little girl who just nodded. "Well, we'll wait, right, Max?" Felicity asked the boy. "Because tonight is blood test night, and he is afraid of needles."

"I am not!" the boy defended himself.

"I'm not," the little girl said proudly.

"Well, I am," Felicity shook her head. "You guys are way braver than I am."

"But your an adult," the little girl argued.

"Only sometimes," Felicity promised.

Sara found herself grinning and unable to move, enjoying the show. This doctor was trouble, and she knew it. That didn't make her move though. It just made her want to know more. This girl couldn't even keep a conversation without tripping over her own lips, but here she was a god to these kids. She was confident and funny and smart and good at her job. Unaware and at ease, Sara thought she could get used to seeing this doctor, almost as much as the anxious one that babbled adorably. She'd made it her mission in life to be able to understand people's motives and personalities in under five minutes because in her position she met many and got asked many things by many of them. But Felicity Smoak was genuine, and that was very rare and actually harder to understand.

"Hey, you're that lady on television," the little boy stood in front of Sara, adjusting his glasses and oxygen tube around his ears.

"Sometimes," Sara smiled at him in his tiny lab coat and huge glasses.

"Dr. Felicity, look, it's the princess!" he turned around quickly and excitedly. Sara straightened herself from leaning on the door. Felicity stood a bit straighter.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," Felicity offered. "I thought you... I assumed you'd left already."

"I was just making my last few stops," Sara assured her. "I was lucky enough to catch this wonderful diagnosis, by doctor..." she leaned down and held her hand out to the little boy.

"Max," he replied, shaking her hand and looking up at her quizzically.

"You must be the youngest doctor I've ever met," Sara played along.

"I'm not a real doctor," he explained, fiddling with his notepad.

"Not yet," Felicity offered. "Max, why don't you go find the leftover cookies in the nurses lounge and bring Amelie some okay? And then get in bed so I can do your draw for the night."

"Oui, docteur," he saluted and traipsed down the hall, tank in tow.

"I'm not stalking you," Sara said quickly, seeing a familiar unease sneaking into Felicity's limbs. She quirked her eyebrow and cocked her head. "Okay, I'm kind of stalking you," Sara shrugged and pulled out the grin. She wanted to put Oliver to shame. Felicity laughed and blushed a bit more until the little girl in the bed pulled on her coat sleeve, pulling her away from Sara's gaze.

Sara shifted, suddenly nervous for no reason while Felicity leaned over and let the little girl whisper in her ear.

"Your Grace," Felicity started. "My friend Amelie wanted to know where your crown was? And she wondered if you would get in trouble for not wearing it?" Felicity tried to hold in her chuckle as she asked the question seriously.

Struck and tapping her head, Sara reached for the crown that she knew wasn't there.

"What do you mean, I don't have it?" she asked, faux-worried. "Oh no, I must have lost it somewhere in the hospital." She looked alarmed. "The Queen will be very upset if I lose another one."

"Oh no!" the girl put her hands over her mouth.

"Will you keep an eye out for it?" Sara asked eagerly. "If you see it, you can let me know, right?"

"Yes, Princess Sara," the little girl peeped.

Felicity watched the exchanged with surprise. Something about the way Sara moved during their meeting, the sureness of her stature, the square of her shoulders and jaw and overall reserved demeanour made Felicity think that she would be awkward around children... or everyone because she was so regal and obviously better. But then it clicked. She was a pro at this, and she carried herself well in all situations. That was daunting.

"I would love to visit again," the Princess replied to something Felicity missed, lost in trying to figure her out. "Perhaps next time I will remember to tape my crown on so I don't lose it. You promise to get better and listen to Dr. Felicity, right?" The little girl nodded. "Wonderful. Dr. Smoak, would you walk me out?" Felicity swallowed hard and nodded.

"Only a few cookies, okay?" she warned the little girl with a wink. Sara waited outside of the door.

"You are quite good at your job, Dr. Smoak," Sara smiled in the quiet of the hall.

"Thank you, your Highness," Felicity grinned, fiddling with something in her pocket.

"If I were to visit again, you wouldn't duck behind an instrument tray, would you?"

"I dropped my scalpel," Felicity said, quickly and with growing eyes. Sara just grinned again and nodded.

"Am I that scary and terrible?" Sara lowered her voice slightly, searching Felicity's face for the truth. It was an honest question she worried about sometimes. Most times, actually. She frequently worried about being terrible.

"No!" Felicity supplied quickly. "Not at all! I mean.. you are kind of awesome, actually." She met Sara's eyes until she couldn't and her mouth succumbed to them despite her knowing better. "I mean... you did great with the kids. And now they will look for that crown everywhere. And it will be the highlight of their day that they met you, and everyone here, to meet you, for the donation, for everything. It is amazing and important and you cheer everyone up just by walking in, without a crown even, and that is important and not scary and definitely not terrible. You kind of just look really nice and have that smile, and it just.. well. what I mean is.. I ramble like this constantly. It's not. I'm not... afraid." Sara stifled her smile as Felicity's hands moved with her mouth, quickly and in circles. "There is a host of reasons I am like this and none of them are that you are scary and terrible, well okay, a few of them are because you are scary, but not in a terrible way just in ways in my head."

"I will have someone bring over a crown and you can hide it in her room, if you'd like," Sara offered as Felicity bit the inside of her lip to keep it from moving.

"She would love that, your Highness," she managed.

"It's the title that's freaking you out, isn't it?" Sara poked her a little.

"I've never met a princess before," Felicity confessed.

"Not even when playing mini golf?"

"Surprisingly the mini golf to princess crossover is slim," Felicity nodded slightly to herself. Sara laughed.

"I am still quite curious about the game," Sara lamented. "Do you get to pick any colour ball? How do you get it past the spinning windmills? Why is the water so dyed?" Felicity smiled this time at the confusion on the princess' face.

"All very good questions that can only be explained by experiencing it."

"One day then," Sara decided.

Awkwardly they stood in the hall, Felicity not knowing what else she could say to a princess and feeling as if nothing would suffice; Sara, still plagued by more questions about mini golf and attempting to find a way to see Felicity again. Neither had much luck in opening their mouths.

Over Felicity's shoulder, Digg waved down the princess. She nodded and returned it, with Felicity looking quickly behind her to see what was happening, still mildly on edge about the guillotine.

"My bodyguard," Sara explained.

"He looks very... experienced and like he could kill me if I touched you," Felicity nodded after her appraisal of the tall, muscular man in the suit. Sara laughed.

"He could kill you before you even touched me," Sara explained, waving him off again. Digg stationed himself against the wall, staring the opposite direction. "I should be going. I have to go beat up my little sister."

"And I am suddenly glad I am an only child," Felicity quipped.

"You really are cute," Sara said, before her brain could filter it. Felicity burned and stuttered before shaking her head and looking at the ground. "How a woman I watched touch a human heart can blush so hard at being called cute is beyond me," Sara explained.

"Some hearts are easy to understand," Felicity shrugged. "Some are just incomprehensible, your Majesty."

"Please call me Sara."

"Okay, Your Highness," Felicity grinned defiantly.

Again there was a moment of quiet, both sneaking looks at the other, both afraid to say anything at all.

"I guess I will see you around, Dr. Smoak," the princess started after checking her watch and seeing an impatient body guard in the distance.

"Of course, Princess," Felicity bowed her head.

Sara made it three steps towards Digg before she turned around.

"I hope it is not too forward of me to say, but I would very much like to get to know you, Dr. Felicity Smoak. And it would be a great disappointment if you were afraid of me because of where I live or my family."

Felicity didn't turn around, but she heard the words, quiet as they were in the hall. She was too busy trying to breathe and keep upright.

"It's not forward at all," Felicity finally mumbled after Sara took a few more steps. "Princess." Sara smiled to herself before she turned around again.

"À bientôt, docteur," Sara nodded slightly.

Felicity watched her leave the hallway flanked by her bodyguard. She'd never lied so much in her entire life. She was petrified. But she asked herself that dreadful question that got her into this mess in the first place: what's the worst that could happen?


	3. Chapter 3

_And I will mount you_  
_Press my knees on both sides_  
_And you will let me_  
_Let me, let me ride._

Morning was her favourite time of day. Normally it accompanied a range of activities that led to getting to work and doing the things she loved. Breakfast was her favorite meal. She loved pancakes and toast and fruit and eggs, probably more than most other meals. And morning came with coffee, which was always so wonderful, that feeling of warmth spreading in her chest and bones, mapping her arteries in ways she could never fully explain. Mornings were moments alone to energize and find a peace before the day, and for that she was grateful and treated them with respect that bordered upon reverence.

But not this morning.

Instead of hitting snooze and wrestling a few more moments of precious sleep from her alarm clock, Felicity found herself already awake when it started its incessant beeping. _5:45_, it blinked, strong and taunting. She did not hit snooze though. Today she turned it off and, taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up higher on her shoulders. She wasn't getting out of bed today, she decided. Not for the entire day.

Felicity opened her eyes again as the rain gushed harder against her window and thunder rumbled in the distance. The light from the street streaked in with the raindrops, filling the window with tiny little globes of the city outside, all twinkling and sliding and slipping around, incapable of staying for very long at all.

Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had a day off. There were afternoons she left work early, or mornings she went in late, or days she spent sleeping because she worked the night shift, but in the nearly twelve months that she worked at this hospital, she couldn't remember a distinct twenty-four hour or longer period in which she did not at least step foot in, email, call, or conference in that building in some capacity. It wasn't surprising then, when Dr. Batteaux requested she take a day or two for herself, away from the floors and lab and operating room.

She yawned and stared at the window still, following individual droplets and feeling eerily isolated from the happenings outside. This was not how mornings were supposed to feel, and she knew that, but there was something she needed to do, and being alone and detached was part of it. She just couldn't put her finger on how to go about doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing. How does one deal with death and failure and fear and ineffectiveness? She never really thought about it.

In the past week, Felicity had found herself amidst the worst surgery rotation of her life. Patient after patient died, and her research hit a dead end. She didn't even have time to worry about the royal family, and that was welcomed. But work, which took its place, wore her down until she lost it. She found herself standing in the operating room for hours after they wheeled away the tiny body of the tiny patient she had grown attached. But she wouldn't move, couldn't move, blood drying on her gown and gloves cracking with it, mask still on, stifling her, acting as a paper bag. She stood there, defeated and blank for an hour after the nineteen hours in surgery.

And now she was on leave.

After a string of rough surgeries it was not uncommon for a doctor to take some time. For Felicity it was torture. Being alone and ineffectual and removed was the worst form of punishment she could stomach. But she did. She agreed because deep down she knew that she was close to the edge of something and running herself ragged. Now, all she could do was stare at the raindrops from her bed and replay every surgery in her head, trying to find the one second she lost them, the one second she could avoid the next time she went in. And when she blinked she saw those damn blue eyes and that damn grin. That grin and those eyes, they haunted Felicity. They made her stomach flip and her cheeks burn. Overall, the princess drove her crazy. And it didn't help that she was intelligent and kind and gracious and funny. If anything, that just made it worse. She thought herself into knots.

"Fuck," Felicity mumbled and pulled the sheets over her head completely disappearing into the cave of melancholy.

A few meetings and conversations should not warrant a crush. A few bad surgeries shouldn't ruin or diminish her work. But they did. And it was eating Felicity up inside to an extent that she didn't even know what to do about any of it. And that drove her mad.

"Ugh," she sighed, throwing the stifling sheets from her face.

With both her job and her crush rolling between her ears, Felicity felt as if she was going to go mad with nothing to distract her from herself. When she looked at the clock, it told her it wasn't even 6:30 yet, and for just a moment she entertained the idea of a quick death by guillotine as opposed to the torture of a day off surrounded by her own thoughts.

* * *

"See, it's not so bad," Sara leaned over and whispered to her sister. Thea rolled her eyes and smiled, returning to watch the play being put on by children dressed in oversized scrubs and masks, standing before a set made of homemade decorations.

When she was Thea's age, their mother forced Sara to go to outrageously boring and stuffy events that bored her to tears and just fuelled her need to do something more exciting. In hopes of bypassing the stage her little sister found herself rooted in, Sara begged her to accompany her to her weekly visit of the children's hospital before they would be forced to an uncomfortable dinner their mother had planned with perspective and suitable suitors for both of them under the guise of improving relations with foreign investors. Sara went to about three of those dinners per month.

Sara clapped and cheered as her favourite from the cancer wing slowly and nervously tiptoed on stage with a beard and cane. Everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves, and for just a little while, Sara was able to ignore the impending dreadful dinner.

But while the play was running, she found herself looking around the room and trying to spot a certain doctor. She knew she wouldn't be able to speak to her much with her sister in tow, but she still wanted to try, because for some reason, her visits to the hospital always made her happy and talking to Felicity always coincided with that cheerfulness. Sara was still able to lie to herself and push away the word crush, though it grew more and more difficult the longer she watched the good doctor working with the kids, making faces, sitting with them when parents were working, being adorable and nervous and funny and so smart it made Sara feel dumb in an amazingly okay way. And the more she looked forward to her visits. And there were new parts she added to this list every time she saw her. Sara liked Felicity's eyes. They were warm, like syrup on fluffy pancakes, warm. And her neck. She had a lovely and delicate neck that lit up pink and red when she was complimented or when Sara smiled at her, and the princess quite liked having that effect on someone with such a beautiful neck and face attached. But she simply tried not to use the word crush. She kept herself oblivious.

Sara sighed and continued her search discreetly. She knew she shouldn't think those things, and even deeper down she knew that she had a crush on this stranger who she could never come up with good enough reasons to see. But it was pointless. She had dinners with perspective suitors all month and a mother that would probably reinstate the guillotine if she knew about her infatuation.

"Can you find out where Dr. Smoak is?" she asked quietly as Digg leaned towards her. He gave her a look before she explained. "I wanted to give her the invitation for the ball and thank her for her work." Sara hoped her explanation was adequate. The bodyguard just nodded and excused himself quietly while the play finished.

"That was wonderful!" Thea stood and applauded, whistling and cheering as the children took the stage for their bows.

"Bravo!" Sara stood and joined her, happily congratulating the little stars.

"I am going to go say hello to the one who played me," Thea told her sister. "We have time, right?

"We are do at the park soon," Sara reminded her, but her sister was already excusing herself through the dwindling audience of nurses and parents.

"Your Grace," Digg appeared beside her as she watched her sister kneel down and earn a hug from the little girl on stage. "Dr. Smoak is not working today." That surprised Sara, because she never actually considered that Felicity existed beyond the confines of the hospital. In fact, it never occurred to her that she had an entire life that was comprised primarily of things beyond the setting in which they interacted.

"She's not in at all?" Sara asked, shaking away the surprise.

"A matter of mandatory leave," Digg explained quietly.

"Can you bring the car? We should be heading out soon," Sara said after forcing a smile.

"Yes, ma'am," he bowed and turned to depart.

Mandatory leave sounded bad. Sara couldn't imagine what would lead to something like that. And try as she might, she didn't like to be this curious, so she sought out someone who would know.

"Dr. Batteaux," Sara greeted the director politely.

"Your Majesty," he bowed nervously and kissed her hand. "Thank you for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it," she smiled. "Although I came with ulterior motives. I have an invitation for Dr. Smoak, and I hoped to deliver it on behalf of my family." The doctor looked away.

"I'm sorry, your Highness," he balled his hands together. "But Dr. Smoak isn't working today. She is taking a well-deserved break."

"I hope everything is alright," she worried, aloof and thoughtful, and hopefully nothing more.

"Yes, of course," he nodded. "I can make sure she gets the invitation if you'd like?"

"That won't be necessary," Sara smiled, slightly deterred by his answer.

"Is there anything else I can do?" he offered graciously. Sara just shook her head

"Thank you for allowing us to spend time here today," she returned politely. "Unfortunately we have other engagements this evening we must prepare for. I just want to stop in and see Amelie. I didn't see her at the play."

"Your Grace," the doctor bowed his head, this time not as respect, but out of deference. "I'm sorry. I thought you might have heard..." Sara felt her jaw clench and she blinked long and hard.

"No, I... understand," she nodded, swallowing roughly. "Will you give my driver her information. I would love to pay my respects."

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"Your Highness," he bowed his head respectfully as Sara excused herself.

Sara was nearly convinced that the two events of the little girl and the missing doctor were related. They had to be. Bracing herself on the handle along the wall, Sara found herself taking a shaky breath that rattled her lungs. She wiped away a tear and shook her head, blinking rapidly. She met the little girl a handful of times, she couldn't imagine what Felicity felt.

"Your Highness," Digg's voice made her spine straighten. "The car is here."

"Thank you, Digg."

"Are you alright, Princess?" he ventured, leaning his head down slightly, concern in his eyes.

"I have a few calls to make. Can you bring Thea downstairs in a few minutes?"

"Of course," he nodded.

* * *

The rain continued for the entire day. Occasionally it softened to a drizzle, but more often than not it fell in great big globs with fat drops exploding on contact with Felicity's window, drowning the city outside in a smudged flood of rivers streaming across the pane.

She lasted exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes in bed before her thoughts drove her out of it and her hands itched to do something to distract the rest of her from them. So she did laundry. And she did dishes. And she mopped and swept and dusted and scrubbed and fluffed and folded. That got her to lunchtime. She just needed to find things that kept her from thinking about the things she was supposed to be thinking about.

She spent the rest of the afternoon pacing until it was a respectable hour to pour herself a drink.

With a clamour of thunder shaking her windows and one last look at the city outside, Felicity dug out the old bottle of scotch her favourite professor had given her when she graduated. She never opened it. She never had a reason and wasn't much of a drinker. But she had run out of things to do and it seemed fitting. Her professor always had answers, and he gave her this, and maybe it was magic or mythical.

Cleaning the glass once again, Felicity leaned her chin on the edge of her counter and poured slowly and purposefully. She reached the point of the glass that seemed like one shot, and added another before carefully closing the bottle. She wanted to add something to it, but when the burn reached her nose, she decided against it, fearing to dilute it, wanting to feel it the entire way.

"Wuyissssssss," she breathed, coughing slightly after her first sip. She held the glass to her chest and felt tears in her eyes. She shook her head to make it go down. "God, that burns," she gasped and hissed.

She stared at the glass again and then looked at the bottle before looking back at the glass. In a swift movement she downed the rest quickly, afraid she would lose her nerve if she thought about it any longer.

She thought that the drink would have magical and mythical powers, that it would tell her how to be better at her job, or at least make her feel better for failing. She thought it would be like Alice's potion, and shrink her or something. She just expected more than burning lips and a sore chest and woozy head.

With a defeated clank, she set the glass down. Maybe if she gave it a few minutes, things would magically be better, she decided. Quiet as a church mouse she stared at the glass, waiting for something.

Felicity jumped and yelped when a knock came from her door. Her heart raced and she looked around her apartment and back at the bottle. There was no such thing as magic, she reminded herself. She was a doctor.

Slowly she crept towards the door, slightly tripping over her bag. She held her broom defensively and looked through the peep hole as another knock started. When she found the Princess standing there, she held her breath and hid against the wall with the broom handle gripped even tighter. After a few breaths, she ventured a peak through the hole again, in case the scotch was bad and she was tripping. That was the only way... she convinced herself.

"I definitely saw you, Dr. Smoak," the princess grinned on the other side, enjoying the show.

"Crap," Felicity pushed herself against the wall again. In a flash she shoved the broom in the corner and looked at herself. Sweatpants and old, torn shirt, hair a messy ponytail, she looked around her apartment to see if there was an alternative, but her mind blanked.

"You realize you're keeping the princess waiting in your hall, don't you?" Sara asked sweetly, infiltrating Felicity's panicked, unproductive thoughts.

At least it's clean, Felicity told herself. Hand on the handle, she took a deep breath and opened it finally.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Felicity offered, worry clouding her face. She held her door open and allowed the princess and her bodyguard into her apartment. She closed the door and watched Sara give the tall, suited bodyguard a nod, after which he commenced searching Felicity's apartment.

For the few minutes he checked windows and latches and closets, Felicity and Sara stood awkwardly beside the door, neither capable of moving. Felicity found herself confused and still trying to convince herself that she was tripping from bad scotch, though it seemed improbable. Sara just smiled at her and ducked her head, suddenly feeling foolish for her ideas and urges.

"Je serai dans le couloir," the bodyguard said quietly to the princess.

"Merci," she smiled at him assuredly. He gave Felicity a slight nod on his way out. Felicity gulped and crossed her arms in front of her embarrassingly simple outfit. "I'm sorry for dropping in, Dr. Smoak," Sara turned her eyes to Felicity.

"No, yeah, it's fine," Felicity nodded with a forced smile. "I think you can call me Felicity in my own apartment."

"Right," Sara nodded, sneaking a peak at the adorably nerdy alma mater sweats Felicity sported. She cleared her throat to try to rid her mouth of the smile. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"What? No, of course not," Felicity shook her head quickly. "No, nothing happening. Just me. At home. In front of the crowned princess. Wearing sweatpants. Smelling like bleach." Each addition to the list felt more painful to Felicity.

"If I could have, I would have dressed the same, I promise," Sara tried to put her at ease. "Dr. Batteaux told me you were on leave today," Sara began, suddenly no knowing exactly to say. She hadn't thought this far ahead, honestly. Felicity nodded. "The children put on a play for my sister and I. It was marvellous." Felicity grinned at the news as Sara sifted through the large bag on her back. "I wanted to bring you this, personally. To thank you for everything you've done at that hospital, and reminding how important it is, especially to my family." Digging a bit more, Sara finally pulled out the silver shimmering envelope and handed it to Felicity.

"I thought you might be kidding about the ball," Felicity scanned the page. Her brow creased and jaw went taut.

"There's pretty much only one thing we royals never kid about, and it's balls." Sara giggled slightly at her own words. Felicity was too flustered by the implications of the envelope.

"Thank you, your Highness," she said mechanically, folding it once again. "It will be an honour."

Again they were left in the quiet of the apartment. But Sara was brave. She had centuries of bravery in her bones, and a moment like this was conquerable, and more than anything, she wanted to conquer it. Things had changed in her life. She wasn't sure how, but she knew that she was a little bit happier with a crush on this girl and she wanted to get to know her more, consequences be damned.

"I heard about Amelie," Sara continued, though her voice was weaker. Felicity flexed her shoulders and bit her lip before ducking her head. She suddenly felt like a scolded child, and she wasn't sure why. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I was. She was an amazing little girl."

"Yeah," Felicity nodded. She spent the entire day trying to keep that name out of her head.

"I didn't realize you were having such a hard time... lately..." Sara kicked her feet suddenly, nervous at how personal this was becoming.

"It happens to everyone at some point," Felicity took a deep breath and explained optimistically. Sara just nodded appreciatively.

"Have you eaten yet?" the princess asked.

"Just scotch," Felicity pointed towards the bottle on the counter.

"I hope you don't mind," Sara dug in her bag once more. "It might be a little cold and probably not as good," she pulled and worked the paper bag from the larger bag. "But when I heard that you were on leave and... everything. I just wanted to... well," she held up the paper bag once freed. "I figured you could use a bit of home."

Felicity stood stark still and blank.

"It's not terribly old," Sara offered, opening the bag and checking to make sure everything inside hadn't turned to mush. "I had it flown in. Took less than seven hours. That's alright, right?" she looked back up at the stupefied doctor. "I'm sorry. This is me being forward. And overstepping, I'm sure. It's just, what you said, about bits of home that you remembered... all I could think about when you said that was this tiny café where I went to school. I spent ten years there. And they had this winter pear tarte tatin that made me feel at home when everything sucked..."

"There is a princess holding a bag I am presuming to contain the worlds worst cheeseburgers, standing in my flat while I am in sweatpants and mildly buzzed on my day of mandatory leave," Felicity listed monotonously, her eyes not moving, nor blinking.

"Yeah," Sara nodded after a few seconds. "Seems that way."

"I need a minute to process that," Felicity deadpanned. Sara swallowed her laugh when she saw that the doctor was serious.

"You flew really crappy burgers across an ocean for me?" she asked, finally looking at Sara. It was accusatory and amazed, all at once.

"Yeah," Sara nodded after a few seconds. "Something like that. I guess it sounds kind of foolish and extravagant when you put it that way. It's just that I know what it's like to not feel at home and everything is exploding around you. I thought... you know... I could use my powers for good... or something like it..." Sara suddenly found a new appreciation for Felicity's rambling. It was easy to get caught in and difficult to avoid when being obscenely honest.

"Wow," Felicity sighed breathlessly. A slight breeze could have bowled her over.

Sara watched her eye brows peak and her eyes grow glassy. She watched her bottom lip be mercilessly bit in the corner of her mouth. She watched Felicity's arms tighten around herself. None of it made her feel less awkward. She wished she could have just said that she wanted to do something nice for Felicity because Felicity had eyes that she dreamed about, and lips that she wanted to kiss, and a laugh that made her smile. But that was all inappropriate. So she bought cheeseburgers, hoping they were the same as a greeting card that said the same things. Normally brimming with confidence, Sara found herself in uncharted waters and it showed. But she was putting herself out there because there was nothing else she could do. She couldn't ignore it any longer, and she was sick of making excuses.

"If it's too much, I can... I don't know. I'm sorry," Sara finally offered, self-conscious and feeling severely foolish. "I can go or I can get something else -"

"Thank you," Felicity stopped her. "Your Highness, thank you, so much."

"I've invaded your apartment, you can call me Sara," the princess offered with a slight chuckle.

"Did you bring enough to share?" Felicity asked, blinking and seemingly snapping from her trance.

"If you're inviting me, yes."

"I'll get us drinks. Make yourself at home, princess."

* * *

"Okay, this is, by far, the best perk of knowing royalty that I could ever imagine," Felicity waved her hands emphatically over the table. Sara threw her napkin beside the trash that accumulated there and played with her straw. Felicity blushed when she caught her grin and straw biting deviousness.

She didn't mean to blush so much, but occasionally Sara just gave her a look that made her feel... something. Something unexplainable. Something that said I've pictured you naked before, and it made Felicity blush. The handful of times they'd managed to spend any significant time together only made the blushing worse, and it only made Felicity more at ease and thus more apt to make a dork out of herself. But that also made Sara laugh, which was kind of nice in a self-deprecating kind of way.

Most of the time, Felicity couldn't even make eye contact for very long. Not because of the princess thing. Or at least that was what she told herself. The more she got to know Sara, or at least get glimpses of the true Sara, the one behind the crown, behind that fuck-me, fuck-the-world, devil-may-care grin, behind the polite and measured tiara-waving, behind the politically correct and pre-fabricated audio bites. And that Sara still had that damn grin, and it still made Felicity's stomach flop. Worse yet, she didn't even seem to know that she did it. Worse yet, she had those eyes. Worst of all, she was beautiful and intelligent and kind and thoughtful, and none of that was part of the act of being a princess, they were just part of her personality that made her so disarming.

The dinner had its intended effect, and the company didn't hurt either. Felicity found herself less tense and anxious than she'd been the entire day, and it all stemmed from the sweetest and kindest act that anyone had ever done for her.

"Who knew that the truest way to your heart was a ridiculous burger from half-way around the world," Sara laughed, crossing her feet and adjusting against the pillow that supported her on the floor.

"You don't understand," Felicity shook her head. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. And by far the most delicious. I don't think there was anyone else I would have wanted standing on the other side of my door knocking, or with a dinner this perfect..." Felicity trailed off self-consciously at her admission. But she just took a deep breath and went with the honesty.

"It was worth it to hear that squeal of joy," Sara laughed, toying with her drink self-consciously. She knew she would get in trouble for wasting money on a stupid meal, but she didn't care. She hadn't seen Felicity in a week, and never in this personal of a setting. It was nice. "I think dogs heard you all over the city. I think I'm partially deaf now."

"You're kind of ruining the whole sweet surprise thing with insulting me," the doctor ate another fry. "But I don't care. I am full of horrible food and you're not terrible company besides that."

"To not terrible company," Sara lifted her glass towards Felicity who did the same and then drank to it.

Only after sitting there and stuffing herself full of food did Sara realize how much things had changed. The past month had seen such a change in her, even her mother had been confused about how much she went out in public. After college, Sara found herself locked away, and after her father's death, she just disappeared because it was easier. Now though, now she gave little girls tiaras and knighted little boys at the hospital, and Felicity occasionally explained science-y things with very excited gestures. But mostly she read stories once a week to the hall and it made her happy. And she visited the veterans and listened to their stories, and she somehow found herself eating burgers with a very strange and nice doctor, very late at night. In one month she felt very much alive and no longer dreading mornings as explicitly as before.

"I really needed this," Felicity decided, crumpling the wrapper on her coffee table.

Bashfully Sara snuck a glance at her. The doctor was far away and staring at her hands in her lap.

"Work?" she ventured, already knowing the answer.

"I've had a rough couple surgeries," Felicity admitted, still not looking up. That was an understatement.

"I can't even imagine," Sara sighed.

"I'm sorry," Felicity shook her head, slapping on a fake smile. She wouldn't cry or complain in front of a princess, no matter if that same princess was eating a greasy, horrible hamburger on her floor. She had to have some sort of decorum, she told herself. "I shouldn't be complaining, or whatever. I'll get over it."

"You're not complaining," Sara insisted. "I'm the one who brought you food. You're allowed to tell me things."

"This helped," was all Felicity could manage. "It's been a rough couple days, but it will get better."

"I'm supposed to be telling you that," Sara shook her head, exasperated. "You're not good at being sad." Felicity only laughed and drank a bit more of her glass of scotch.

"But you are quite good at making things suck less," Felicity offered. "And you're quite beautiful and thoughtful, too. Your Highness."

"I don't think anyone has ever been so charming," Sara grinned. That gave her confidence. The way Felicity looked at her, the way she smiled shyly at her admission but managed not to ramble. Sara had no doubts.

"That's me," Felicity shook her head.

"Your Highness," Digg's voice accompanied a gentle knock at the door. "I'm sorry. It's getting late."

Felicity found the time and shook her head, amazed at how it was already the early morning. They'd spent hours together. Sara came to the same realization in just as much shock.

"Thank you, Digg," she waved him out again. "I really should be going then."

"I'm sorry to keep you so late," Felicity offered, getting up quickly. "You don't have to..." she stopped the princess from cleaning up the papers and trash on the coffee table. "I can get that." Sara just nodded and followed Felicity towards the door.

"Thank you for opening up your home to my rude interjection," Sara offered, pulling on her coat.

"Thank you for interjecting," Felicity smiled sweetly. "And being forward." Sara snorted slightly and shook her head.

Awkwardly they stood at the door, neither moving to open it or end the night. Both stuck in a dance of stolen glances and adrenaline that urged them forward in ways they both were unsure of how to move.

"Would it be too outlandish to say that I had a lovely time, Dr. Smoak?" Felicity smiled and felt a blush brewing from her spine and hips the entire way to her ears. She shook her head quickly, but was unable to open her mouth. "Alright then," Sara grinned. "I like you and I enjoyed spending time with you."

"Likewise," Felicity kept nodding and cleared her throat. "I had fun too, I mean. I liked having you. Here. I liked having you over. When you showed up. It was nice. Tonight was nice. I had fun tonight. Tonight was nice." It was that damned grin that did it. Sara couldn't help it though, not with the fire engine red in Felicity's ears.

Another gentle tapping at the door reminded the women that they would have to separate sooner, rather than later.

"I should -" Sara motioned towards the door.

"Yeah, definitely," Felicity nodded, trying to find some cool, but failing. Sara took a step closer and found herself inches from Felicity. Both girls looked at the space between them, heads ducked and nerves clouding the air and freezing their muscles. It was agonizing, to be so close and not know how to cross whatever barrier thinly divided and stopped them. Sara held her breath. Felicity felt her heartbeat in her ears, she felt it thumping in her chest.

"See you soon, Felicity," Sara spoke softly, leaning forward and kissing Felicity's cheek. As she moved her body moved even closer. Felicity could nearly feel her. She was sure that the torture was too much to bear and she would turn to stone with hose tense her joints had grown, waiting for something. But Sara's lips lingered, soft and warm and much too brief. "À la prochaine," she moved slowly, licking her lips as she moved to the other cheek. Felicity closed her eyes. She waited to feel Sara's nose on her nose, she wanted to move her hands to grab her, but they were stuck and scared and she was a princess. Sara pressed her lips to Felicity's other cheek and ducked her head, her body refusing to retreat. She wanted to kiss her lips, she wanted to grab her and hold her tightly and kiss her so hard she couldn't see straight. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"Good bye," Felicity whispered, hand migrating to the spot on her cheek Sara had recently touched. She didn't move to open the door. Instead Sara grinned and smiled bigger than Felicity had ever seen her smile, and opened it herself, disappearing a second later.

She stood there for a few more minutes, unable to figure out how her legs worked. Instead she just grinned like an idiot and stared at the door.

"Holy cow," Felicity sighed. "I'm screwed."

* * *

Slightly tingly from the glasses of scotch that remained not soaked up by the greasy burger in her stomach, Sara felt like she was gliding along the halls of the palace. She was a conquering hero. Avoiding a dinner with pesky suitors and spending an evening on the floor of a beautiful doctor's apartment eating lukewarm burgers and drinking surprisingly good scotch, Sara felt as if that's how things were supposed to be.

Of course there was the almost kiss at the door. That didn't hurt either.

Sara took off her heels and let her bare feel pad along the cold tiles like she did when she was a child. She wanted to run like she hadn't in so long because her body was on fire and full of energy. Nothing else mattered.

"You're home late," Moira spoke from the couch outside of Sara's room. Sara skidded to a halt when she saw her mother.

"Sorry about that," she composed herself.

"We missed you at dinner," her mother put down the papers she was reading and folded her glasses.

"I'm sure you managed well enough without me," Sara shrugged, inching towards her room.

"I know about your doctor."

Sara felt the skin on her neck go cold. Her hair prickled and the blood drained from her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she ground her teeth together.

"Sara," her mother tried again. She gave her the same look she did when Sara was a child and afraid of going to school or afraid to tattle on her brother.

"Please don't, Mom," she shook her head. Quiet and afraid to make a move, Sara stood, holding her heels, feet freezing to the floor, forgetting the entire night she had with Felicity that was so pleasant and unassuming and innocent, it made her feel real. She was suddenly feeling very unreal and hated it.

"We've been through this," Moira cleared her throat and stood from the couch. Sara felt her fists balling.

"Please don't," she asked again.

"I love you," Moira said, making her way towards her daughter. "I love everything about you." She held Sara's cheeks, tucked her hair behind her ears. "But our life is... more rigid." Sara flashed angry eyes at her mother. Moira saw her husband's wrath and it hurt her heart like a vice. "I love you so much," she clung to her daughter.

"Don't," Sara shook her head, seething and volatile.

"I love you," the mother repeated. "But you know you can't."

"Why can't I be happy, Mom?" Sara shook her head. She was angry and felt poison in her gums. She swallowed it.

"You will be happy," the mother promised. Sara pushed herself free of her mother's arms. "You are a princess, second in line for the throne." Muscles tensing and body rigid, Sara held up a hand to make her mother quiet. "Sara, I love you." Sara held her hand up again, staring at her mother. It was a look Moira had never seen before from Sara. Contempt. Defiance. Disgust. Wounded. Rage. Helplessness. Betrayal. It was all of them at once and it nearly killed the mother.

Without another word and shaking from so many feelings she didn't understand, Sara left her mother standing there, surprised and astounded at her daughter - a Sara she'd never seen before.


	4. Chapter 4

_Too much feeling and soul, it's made me feel old before my time.  
I carry this weight, I know I should let go, but it's trapped inside.  
There's a look in your eyes, half conviction, half lies in a steady stare.  
This house of cards will come crashing down hard when I leave this place._

* * *

"We might be the only people here without crowns," Barry leaned over and whispered as they entered the palace. Felicity just nodded and tried to take calm, even breaths. She'd been there once before, and was counting on that to make it less terrifying. However, as they pulled through the gate and found a winter wonderland of decadence and beauty beyond their wildest dreams, the nerves crept right back up into their familiar spot in Felicity's brain.

"That is why you will be doing the talking on behalf of the hospital, and I will be steadily sipping champagne and hoping I don't somehow start an international crisis."

"Oh, champagne. I miss it so much," Susie signed, rubbing her pregnant belly. "The one time we get invited to the palace for a ball, and I can't enjoy anything."

The trio made their way up the steps, following the line of other guests like cattle to the really expensive and elegant slaughter.

"Think of the food," Felicity offered.

"This guy is going ot be twelve pounds when he comes out after tonight," she smiled hopefully.

Felicity wanted to warn her guests what they would be in store for when they arrived, but as they ascended the stairs she realized that she could have never guessed what tonight would be like. On an average Thursday when she had her meeting and the house was alive only with maids and servants, it was a beautiful oasis of quiet culture, like having a museum all to yourself. Tonight, though. Tonight was different. Lights covered every inch of space. Wreaths, large and real and smelling like a forest, wreaths, hung in the hundreds of windows. Trees were decorated, stockings set out, and the ballroom.

"Are they... dancing?" Barry asked, flabbergasted and confused as they left their coats and followed the music.

"It's like Beauty and the Beast," Susie whispered.

"Or a Jane Austen novel," Felicity added, jaw cracked and in no way ready to close.

"Or a movie based off of a Jane Austen novel. Dear God," was all Barry could muster, registering somewhere between amazement and disgust. The three lowly commoners found themselves standing to the side of leaders of the surrounding countries and their offspring and friends and basically anyone that mattered, and they couldn't get past the dancing.

Between the music and the dancing and the food and the champagne, the trio spent no time trying to hide their amazement at the happenings around them. Instead they allowed themselves to be swept up in it happily. And after her second glass of champagne, Felicity even found communication came slightly easier. And once people found out she was a doctor, she learned the medical history of half of the globe's heads of state. Mingling was easy when people just wanted to hear bloody stories about lungs and guts, and also have their symptoms analyzed. Felicity could do mingling like that. That was simple.

Of course, for the hours she spent at the ball, even the times she was asked to dance and accepted, allowing a stranger who didn't speak English to prance her along the seventeenth century promenade line, Felicity was on the look out for a certain princess that she liked more than all other princesses. When she was separated from her dates, she casually walked around the grounds, avoiding the business executive who smelled like cheap cologne. But she also hoped to run into the person who invited her. She racked her brain with what to say, but naturally that didn't happen. Though she knew she couldn't wing it, she figured she might have to since she couldn't concentrate.

Maybe that wasn't an accident, though, she thought, stepping back into the ballroom after getting some air on the chilly patio outside. Sara had been mostly missing from Felicity's days for the past month. She only visited the hospital once, and when she did, she only offered a small greeting and nothing else. There was no more meetings at Felicity's apartment, no more coffee in her office, no more anything. She didn't even hear about her in the news. But Felicity got a card on her desk that sent her to a dress maker in a section of the shopping district that she could never afford only to be told that her dress was paid for, before she even picked it. And she spoke to Amelie's parents who told them about the tiara Princess Sara sent over to be buried with their daughter and a hand written card offering condolences. She felt invisible strings that kept telling her that Sara was there, just not.

But tonight was different, Felicity thought as she followed the congregation. She would have to see her at her own ball. And then she would... She would... Say... No, she would just... do...

"Crap," Felicity mumbled, shaking her head and grabbing another glass of champagne. Who was she kidding? She couldn't and wouldn't do anything.

"I've been looking all over for you." A very pregnant woman saddled up beside Felicity.

"I was strolling," the doctor shrugged. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Honestly, I don't know if having a kid will be as magical," Susie laughed. "Oh! I ran into your princess, by the way." Felicity choked on her sip, coughing and gasping slightly. "Easy, honey," the wife patted her back.

"She's not my-" _cough_ "She's not _my_ princess," Felicity corrected her.

"She looked beautiful," was all she said in response. "Grabbed Barry and took him to the stage for the handing over of the cheque or what have you. They were looking for you, but I suspect you've missed your chance."

Felicity couldn't decide if she was grateful or saddened by this news. She doubted she could be on stage in front of so many people without tripping or getting sick. But she also missed Sara and possible her once chance to see her.

Before she could decide, the music ended and didn't pick up again. People milled quietly until they gradually looked at the stage atop the staircase in the south entrance. Grand and gold and absolutely beautiful, the entire room naturally looked there at the family it held, and Felicity understood how they were the royal family. They were all born to be it, every single beautiful and regal one up there.

"Good evening my lovely guests and friends and family," the Queen addressed the audience. "I am honoured and blessed to have so many here tonight who I considered treasured and loved members of our great country and our great allies." There was a deafening applause and Felicity fell into suit despite her wriggling to get a better vantage point to see everyone better.

While the queen gave her opening remarks and spoke about the season as a time of cheer or thanks or love or something, Felicity seared the royal family. She saw the prince, who she was grateful she didn't have to have a meeting with, because he was tall, and handsome, and all together ruggedly devilish and Felicity would have gone down in a blaze of not quite glory. He stood, tuxedo'd and applauding his mother beside his fiancée, the future queen. Beside him stood the youngest daughter, beautiful as well, naturally. Their hair was dark, like their mother's, while Sara's blonde was identical to the pictures Felicity found of the dead king. But they also had more defined features with the prince looking very much like his father and the other daughter looking very much like the mother. Sara, on the other hand, didn't look terribly like either. Instead she was such a mix of parts that she looked her own.

When she saw her though, Felicity forgot how to swallow and forgot even more that she had a glass of something that could help her, right in her hands. Sara was beautiful on an average day. But on the day of the ball, she was... Felicity would have voted her princess if that was possible. She looked like one. She looked mythic, imaginary, the stuff of Arthurian knighthood legends.

And then there were more rounds of applause and the queen handed the microphone over to the daughter in question. Felicity was afraid she forgot what her voice sounded like. But there it was. And there was that smile, the one she wore in front of the public. It wasn't the same as the one in Felicity's apartment. She might not have learned them all yet, but Felicity knew some of them and that made her feel accomplished.

"Bonsoir," Sara began. "This is a special season that we adore as a family. I couldn't be happier than to be able to include l'Hôpital des enfants-malades in the festivities." She nodded as the applause came in. Felicity caught her eye, or at least was convinced that she caught her eye, because there was that grin, and a pause before she looked away and started speaking. "This hospital was a very important part of my grandmother's life. She spent many hours there with the children, with the parents; Something I've been able to do recently as well." Sara paused and took a deep breath. She fidgeted nervously with her necklace while the crowd watched on, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm not sure anyone really knows why it was so important to my grandmother," she began, looking up as if she'd found something.

"Before the war, my grandmother found herself spending months in bed awaiting surgeries to correct her legs. She said it was the best time of her life because she was surrounded by kind nurses and doctors, and she never felt afraid even though her family was usually too busy to come in and spend time with her." Sara swallowed and continued nervously. "And one day, after her surgery, right before the war came home, she met a scrawny boy with a chest cold that wouldn't go away. And try as she might, he wouldn't leave her alone either. For years, he sent her letters and chocolates and records and anything he could find that she might like. Eventually the letters slowed, they grew up, the country was war weary and the kids were expected to help with recovery. But she never forgot that boy from the hospital. She missed him once his letters stopped," Sara smiled, happy at the memory as if it were her own.

"And one day while she was stocking shelves in her father's store, in walks a tall, handsome fellow who asked if she remembered him. When she said she couldn't, he coughed and held his chest and she said she still couldn't get rid of him. He was worse than a cold." The crowd laughed at Sara's sentimental story. "But he won her over, and he loved her from the moment they were in the hospital. She hated to admit it, but she was in love with that gawky boy as well. And so, that little girl and that little boy became the future king and queen." A loud cheer erupted at the memory. Sara laughed and smiled a quiet smile to herself to keep going.

"My grandmother told me that story so many times. I would beg for it almost every night before bed when I was a child." She laughed a bit more. Felicity was captivated. "But it wasn't until I got older that I learned the second half of the story, the part she didn't tell me. About how a store clerks daughter was not made to feel welcome as the future queen for many years. It took time for the rest of the family to accept her, even with my grandfather's insistence. But the country loved her." There was another cheer, this time wild and eager. "Everyone loved the magical story, and my grandmother worked hard to be good back."

"I think that she loved that hospital because of my grandfather, but also because it represented a place where nothing else mattered but sick kids feeling better. Where you could be anyone you wanted to be. A place where she got to be happiest." Sara sniffled but smiled as everyone clapped again. "I am very thankful that we are in a position tonight to make sure that this place has what it needs to continue with this work that not only helped my grandmother, but that saves children's lives and gives them a safe place to find treatment every day, from anywhere in the world. Thank you, so much."

To a raucously deafening applause, Sara curtseyed and stood back in line with her siblings. The youngest princess held her hand and whispered in her ear as the Princes took the microphone.

Felicity didn't hear a word he had to say.

* * *

"She's kind of amazing," Susie whispered as the party recommenced after the lighting of the tree.

"What? Huh?" Felicity lost sight of Sara in the ensuing commotion of the music starting. "Yeah, something like that." Dizzy and full of bubbles, she gave up her glass to the next tray and steadied herself with water.

"Hey, honey," the wife kissed her husband as he approached. "You did great out there."

"Congratulations," Felicity smiled and joined the real world.

"The Queen is coming over," he said quickly in a whisper. "She wanted to meet you," he pointed at Felicity. She wondered if she had a face like that after she met the princess for the first time. "The Queen is coming over," he repeated, smiling nervously.

Felicity wondered if that meant the princess would come over as well.

She didn't have to wonder long.

"Your Majesty," Barry bowed and kissed her hand as she approached, entourage in tow.

"Dr. Allen," she smiled benevolently. "This must be your lovely wife and a future doctor on board?"

"Soon, hopefully," Susie grinned, bowing as best she could. "It's an honour to meet you, Your Highness."

"How are you feeling?" the queen looked on, worried and concerned.

"He's been quiet tonight. He'll probably keep me up kicking all morning."

The queen laughed and nodded understandingly. "My first was smooth sailing, but my second, she couldn't sit still for nine minutes, let alone nine months." She turned her eyes to Felicity before returning to the mother-to-be. "I wish you a speedy delivery."

"Thank you, so much. God bless you," Susie gushed. The queen smiled politically.

"And you must be the famous Dr. Smoak," the Queen introduced herself to Felicity.

"I am," Felicity bowed slightly and bit the inside of her lip, trying to keep steady. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"Would you mind taking a walk with me? I have some questions about the programs."

Nervous and afraid, Felicity looked to Barry for help. He just smiled and nodded, urging her forward.

"Of course," Felicity acquiesced.

"I understand that you were the one that proposed the new research and patient programs," Moira started, walking slowly around the edge of the dance floor.

"Yes, I did," Felicity measured her words. If she kept it short, she could survive. The champagne helped. "I mean, I just presented it. A few of the doctors put together the proposal and we did a lot of research on the methods and best bets for future experiment and testing, as well as the demographics and the cases we were getting. It was about three months of work." There went her plan of quiet.

"It was impressive," the Queen nodded. "You are not from here."

"No?" Felicity asked, suddenly unsure.

"You don't understand how monarchies work."

"I have a rough idea, although some of the systematic channeling of power is troublesome for my democratic upbringing, and the ways in which parliament overlaps with influences from the -"

"My daughter has taken an interest in you," Moira interrupted. Felicity was thankful for that and inhaled greedily. The switch in topic didn't make her feel anymore at ease though. In fact, she wanted to go back to embarrassing herself trying to explain monarchies to a queen.

"I don't... I wouldn't say... I haven't... Would never have... What I mean is... Well..." Felicity felt her mouth go dry despite the relay of messages from her brain that it was a good idea to keep speaking.

"There are expectations of a royal family," Moira looked away, smiling and waving over the crowd of dancing and jovial guests. "There are rules and there are laws we observe to serve the public in whatever capacity they need us. But we are always there for our country above all else."

"Right, yeah, that makes sense," Felicity nodded. "It's a lovely country. It feels nice to work at the hospital. I like the hospital. I help sick kids at the hospital."

"I love my daughter. I love my children more than anything else," Moira paused near the staircase. She lost the smile on her face that made her so matronly. Now she was what Felicity imagined a general looked like before he gave the order for the firing squad. "I want Sara to be happy. I will find a way for that to happen. But if you do anything," she flared her eyebrows, suave and menacing. Felicity gulped. "That threatens her or this family, I will come at you with the fury only a mother can know."

"Yes, ma'am, you're Highness, Queen, ma'am," Felicity nodded, unsure of what actually was happening. She was unsure of what it meant. Was she supposed to make Sara happy? Was she supposed to stay away? Felicity was on a tight wire, legs wobbling and arms flapping. Moira gave the floundering doctor an appraisingly look. In some ways she understood.

"I am sending her on a tour of our allied nations with her sister for the New Year," the Queen said coolly.

"That's... okay.. so, wait? For how long?" Felicity felt her brow furrowed and a pang in her stomach.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Dr. Smoak," she smiled, slipping back into the benevolent role of host. The transformation left Felicity stunned.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you. You too, your Highness," she stuttered as the Queen departed.

Felicity leaned against the stairs and watched the Queen mingle into the crowd until she disappeared. She caught sight of the prince dancing with his future bride. He saw the youngest dancing with the smelly business executive.

Felicity was thankful this was the only ball she would ever have to attend. She knew she could not handle it on a regular basis.

* * *

"Dr. Smoak," a deep voice came over Felicity's shoulder as she dug for her coat. Thoroughly exhausted of mingling and small talk and those blasted silver platters of delicious champagne, though completely losing her buzz and bubbly tingles after her run in with the queen, Felicity wanted nothing more than to peel this ridiculous dress from her body and fall into bed to never wake up. That seemed reasonable enough.

"Please, not again," she looked at the ceiling and prayed.

"I have been asked to bring you somewhere, if you'd like," Sara's bodyguard stood, dapper and handsome in his tuxedo, graciously waiting for Felicity's tired brain to connect with the words he was saying. Felicity just stared at him, squinting her eyes and trying to read his mind.

"I'll find a way home," she waved Barry away with his tired, pregnant wife. "I'm all yours," she motioned for the bodyguard to lead the way.

She was heading for the guillotine, she knew it. She somehow made a powerful enemy. An enemy that controlled an entire country. And now she was gong to be locked in a dungeon. Well, she would go with her head up and she would go down graceful. That was what she tried to convince herself of as the bodyguard lifted a cord that separated the party from inaccessible areas. But she paused for a moment before following, suddenly afraid of the threshold.

"I don't understand how you don't get lost in here," she finally said, struggling to keep up with his long strides. He seemed distracted with making sure they were alone, and that made Felicity even more worried.

"Years of practice," he informed her as they reached a dead end of a hallway. Gently he tapped his knuckles on it and peaked in his head. "Your Grace," he opened the door for Felicity to follow. She had a bit of trouble with that.

If she thought Sara was beautiful from far away in a crowded room of people, she thought she was down right magnificent in an empty room and only fifteen feet away. Felicity took a few tentative steps until the bodyguard closed the door behind her. At ten feet, Sara was radiant and breathtaking and dazzling.

"Hi," Sara greeted her, despite the distance still between them.

"Whoa," Felicity gulped. At eight feet, she was a true princess, magic and godmothers and talking mice and all. Felicity couldn't think straight.

"You look..." Sara started but got about as far as Felicity. "That dress is beautiful on you." Her words startled Felicity out of the coma she found herself. She was barely able to speak herself.

"Thank you," Felicity shook her head to clear the stupor. "It's, um, yeah," she looked down, almost to verify her own attire. "I love it. I... thank you. It was you, wasn't it? I know it was. I can't... there's no way. I could never repay you. I... thank you. Your Highness." Sara grinned. Flustered and surprised and with the queen's words jumbled and ringing in her ears, Felicity was incapable of being coherent. Sara's eyes didn't help. Felicity swore they were bluer than anyone's eyes had any right to be, than she had ever seen before.

"It was a gift, for your first palace party," Sara waved away the idea of repaying anything. "It was well worth it." Felicity blushed deep and hard.

Quiet and alone they stood staring and not staring, smiling and not smiling, eager and afraid. At six feet, she was stunning.

"I met your mother," Felicity began awkwardly. She wanted to rip out her own tongue for betraying her right to her face. "She was... queenly. She told me you are going on a trip."

"I am," Sara nodded. "I leave after New Years."

"That sounds like fun," Felicity offered. that wasn't what she meant. She meant that she would miss her, but she couldn't say it. She meant that she missed her already, but that sounded abnormal. She meant that she didn't know what the queen meant completely, but she would never admit that.

"I'm sorry I've been... I don't know. I'm sorry I haven't been more forward," Sara gave up on small talk, she gave up on talking about her stupid trip. She was busy battling her mother in new ways that drove her crazy, and the trip was a result of a weeks worth of warfare. "I asked Digg to find you so I could apologize. But also tell you that I thought you were the most stunning woman her tonight. And I couldn't go the entire night without seeing you..." Sara watched a familiar blush creep up Felicity's neck and she grinned, grateful that her mouth had decided to be completely honest. She didn't have the luxury of time to be coy. And she couldn't waste a moment anymore. So she took a page from her grandfather's playbook, and dove in, headfirst, unabashedly.

"Amelie's parents told me what you did," Felicity ignored her apology. She didn't have to give it and she didn't know how to take a compliment.

"She deserved a better crown."

"It was sweet." Felicity bit her lip. "So was the story you told tonight." Sara got a dazed smile.

"It felt good to remember it," Sara explained. "My mom was not as impressed, but I don't care. I like that story."

"It is a really nice story," Felicity agreed. "As much a you talk about your grandmother, I never knew your grandfather had been so persistent. It was kind of romantic. He must have been stubborn and sure."

"I didn't know him well," Sara moved closer again. They were like checkers pieces, advancing and taking turns, but not matter what, constantly inching forward. "But everyone said my dad was just like him. And my dad always said I was too much like him, so maybe that's what he was like."

"Your named after your grandmother though, aren't you?"

"Maybe I'm a bit of both of them," Sara shrugged.

"Maybe you're a bit of all of them, and then also a large part yourself, and when those all mix up, you get you," Felicity theorized.

"And who am I?" Sara grinned, eager for this answer.

"A princess unlike any other," Felicity thought hard about this answer. "Who is idealistic and simple, like her grandmother. And a bit stubborn and probably foolish like her grandfather." Sara took another step forward while Felicity thought and answered. "Regal and elegant, like her mother. Rebellious and charming, like her father," the doctor explained. Sara found herself a foot away from Felicity. She met her eyes infrequently, but when she did, she could almost feel the blush creep through the doctors neck.

"But behind all of that and under the crown, cocky and thoughtful and still stubborn and funny and smart and angry and a perfect storm of kind and beautiful. I don't know you enough yet, but I do know enough to know that you are the sum of your family, good and bad parts all. But you are very much you, and -"

Felicity didn't finish her calculation. Sara pushed her lips against hers. Felicity inhaled and froze, surprised and dazed. But she did recognize Sara's lips on her lips, and she felt lightheaded.

Slowly, Sara's hands cupped Felicity's cheeks, held her there as she put everything she had in that kiss. Eyes shut tight, she felt Felicity's lips move against her own. She wanted to remember every second, every millimetre of skin, every breath, every ounce of this moment. She wanted to greedily horde them and freeze them all at once. Felicity felt the princess' hands in her hair, her thumb on her jaw, her fingers on her neck. Felicity couldn't move her arms. But she kissed Sara. She moved with her. She bit her lip. She felt her tongue. She forgot what lungs were for. Torturous and eager, Sara moved and tasted, inhaling everything this moment had to offer.

"Whoa," Felicity sighed as they finally pulled apart to breathe. Sara didn't let go of her cheeks. She smiled and leaned her forehead against Felicity's, shoulders growing and struggling to refill her lungs.

"Whoa," Sara agreed.

"That... you..." Felicity tried. Her eyes were still shut and her face was still surprised. Sara hadn't thought about what kind of kisser Felicity would be. But she was impressed and amazed and wanted more, but suddenly didn't know how to do it again.

"You look beautiful in that dress," she whispered against Felicity's cheek.

Felicity was overcome with shivers.

"We should... yeah... this... dress."

Sara's hands fell to Felicity's shoulders, and then to her hips. She swallowed roughly.

"Can I see you when I get back from my trip?" she asked quietly.

"Definitely," Felicity sighed. She finally opened her eyes and the relief and contentment that rested on her face made Sara smile. "When do you get back?"

"That eager, Dr. Smoak?" the princess laughed.

Felicity smiled softly and tucked a piece of Sara's hair behind her ear before she answered. "Yes," she nodded.

"Three weeks."

"Have a safe trip," Felicity offered. She was still dazed.

"I should get back to the party," Sara realized.

"I think I'm an enemy of the state," Felicity came back to life. Sara didn't question it.

"Diggle will take you home, if you'd like," Sara offered. Her hands dropped and she was no longer touching Felicity, something that she was not a fan of after waiting so long to do it in the first place. Neither was going to talk about the kiss.

"I uh..." Felicity started as Sara took a step back. "I will miss you."

"Be safe while I'm gone, okay?" Sara gave her a stern look. Felicity nodded. After another glance, she walked towards the door. "Felicity," Sara stopped her. "I will count down the hours until I get to see you again."

"Your Highness," Felicity curtseyed and blushed, averting her eyes.

"Could you call me by my name, just once?" Sara stopped her one more time. Felicity turned again and thought about it hard. Maybe she was unsure that she could. Maybe she didn't want to make her a real person.

"Safe travels, Sara," she decided on, measured and calm.

When the door closed behind her, Sara collapsed on the chair closest to her. She stared at the door as if willing it to open again so she could live those fleeting moments over again. Now alone and unsure, Sara was terrified that she couldn't be both who she wanted and who she was meant to be. The weight of a duty to herself and to her blood raged inside of her to new heights.

And she pressed her fingers to her lips and swore she felt like she couldn't be the same.


	5. Chapter 5

_Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,_  
_And you fill my head with you_.

"Wheels up in five," Diggle took his seat at the front of the plane by the door.

"Finally," Thea sighed, head against the window and eyes closed. "This is the last flight I'm taking forever."

"Until you want to go to the villa for the summer," Sara rolled her eyes, focusing again on her laptop.

"I'll drive," the younger princess shook her head, not moving from her spot and sleepy posture. "Or I'll have someone drive me. Or I'll take a bus. I'm just so sick of planes and flying and that ear popping and hotels and travel."

"Diggle carries gum, juts for these moments," Sara explained. "Do you want some?"

"No," Thea lifted her head and stretched sleepily. "I want to revel in the misery so I never forget how much I hate flying."

Sara simply shook her head and found her place once more in the email she'd been working on since the night before. She agreed with her sister, that she was sick of flying and travelling and otherwise being away from her own bed. She was sick of smiling and waving and greeting strangers and talking in circles about things that didn't matter. But somehow, she felt that if she did whatever her mother asked, but in her own way, she could win this silent, pointless war that she had somehow declared. So she went on her trip. And while she was on it, she didn't take the meetings her mother set up. Audacious and reckless, she tasted the bit in her mouth and she let it stay there but she bucked and threw her mother as often as she could. Not fully and violently and in a fury, but subtly and calmly. It worked.

It'd been exactly twenty-four days since she kissed Felicity. It'd also been twenty-four days since she saw her last. And she'd visited fifteen countries and been in a handful of time zones and spent more time with her sister than she had in years. That part wasn't bad. But the other parts were kind of exhausting.

_We are minutes away from taking off_, Sara wrote, happy to see the words herself. _Thea has sworn off planes forever, and I think I am about to take the oath as well. It gets kind of tiring running around. I know it sounds horrible to complain about... What a horrible life I have, jetting around to different countries. But we're never anywhere long enough to enjoy it. We don't get to explore ourselves. We get shuttled around like cattle. __I don't think I've ever been so excited to come home. _

"You're smiling," Thea said, pulling Sara from her typing. "The Doctor?" She cocked her eyebrow. Sara composed her face and shook her head as she lied. Thea looked at her sternly, not letting her get away with it.

Thea loved her older sister ferociously. If there was ever someone she aspired to be like, it was her. Yet Sara was always a step out of reach for Thea. She got better grades in school and ditched more class. She won more field hockey games and equestrian trophies. She got accepted to more universities. She made people laugh easier. She read the books and got the boys and she never let anything touch her. That was the most beautiful part of her, to her little sister. She was strong and never flinched and asked for more pain. She somehow grew up, when Thea couldn't figure out how. Plus, she protected her sister and took much of the brunt of the family legacy when Thea didn't want to or understand. That made her admirable.

"I was just finishing up an email," Sara explained.

It hadn't gone unnoticed that Sara spent time crafting emails that made her smile throughout their trip. She took her time, furrowing her brow and running her hand along her chin, concentrating on each word restlessly. Thea would notice and realize that she didn't often see her sister that happy. Before the accident, Sara was a wild child, full of life, vibrant. But that changed. And over the past few months, Thea saw it reemerge. When she watched Sara type an email to a certain doctor, there a little bit of the old spark.

Thea and Digg shared a glance. Neither believed her.

"Well, that's a shame," Thea shrugged, picking up a magazine absently. "Because the Dr. Felicity Smoak that I googled looked kind of beautiful..." she flipped a page and signed. "You know, if you're into tall, blonde, doe-eyed geniuses who save babies for a living. Which, I mean... that would be totally acceptable to email."

"You're the worst," Sara shook her head and hit send without thinking anymore about if she should or shouldn't. Every action she took went against what she knew she should be doing. But she couldn't stop. She would though, she told herself. She wouldn't let it get serious.

"I always pictured you as a brunette fan," Thea flipped another page, feigning disinterest. "Right, Digg?"

"Definitely darker haired. And shorter," he added earnestly. "I figured you would want someone shorter for some reason."

"Okay, seriously," Sara gave them both a look that made them laugh.

"Just admit that you like the Doctor," Thea shook her head.

"I can't do that," Sara shrugged as she closed her laptop.

"Screw whatever Mom has to say," Thea tossed the boring magazine down.

"If only it were that easy," Sara sighed. "There's more at stake than just right now, Thea," the sister explained. "This is ancient and I have a job to do. Shouldn't we be leaving?" She turned to her bodyguard anxiously.

"I'll go check," he unbuckled and ducked through the door as he saw the sisterly argument brewing. Sara watched him leave and gritted her teeth.

"You can't understand it all, Thea. You're just a kid. I'm figuring it out," she sighed in the quiet of the plane. She didn't want to fight with her sister. She didn't want to think about this problem more than she already did.

Thea sized up her sister and tried not to be bitter about her comment. After their father died, Sara was strong and proud and did her best for everyone. That was her way of coping. Quiet and reserved. But Thea saw the parts it ate away from her sister. She could see it happening now, all over again.

"I'm not a child anymore," Thea stated calmly. "And I love you. You've been the best big sister. You're selfless and devoted and that doctor would be lucky to have you." Sara opened her mouth, but Thea ignored it and kept going. "But you're so stupid, and this war with Mom is stupid. Don't you think it is important that there be someone like you that people can see and relate to? Don't you think that it is important? You're missing a huge opportunity to be a voice for such whispered about group of people and you're not the person I thought you were if you let Mom bully you into keeping quiet. And I don't want that. I need you to be that person."

"Thea..." Sara pursed her lips and took a deep breath, shaking her head.

"Look at Grandma," Thea said quickly. "Look at everything she did, where she came from, how brave she was."

"I'm not her!" Sara finally shouted. Thea shut her mouth quickly. "And it's not even about that. How can I do this to her?"

"Mom loves you," the youngest heir shook her head.

"Not her," Sara sighed. "How can I do this to Felicity? I feel like I barely know her. And I want to parade her around on a global stage? To ruin her life? I can't."

"That's her choice, isn't it?" Thea decided.

Quietly Sara nodded and ground her teeth, tension building in her neck. She looked out at the airport, digesting everything. She felt the tearing inside of her. She wished there was a right and a wrong, a black and a white. But there wasn't. There was a spectrum of choices that presented themselves with different and equally bad outcomes and at equally expensive costs.

"She is kind of worth it all though," Sara finally smiled, thinking about Felicity at the ball, with the dress and the smile and those collarbones. "I think so. Maybe. I don't know."

"Did you kiss her yet?" Thea leaned forward, happy there was a kind of truce.

"Yeah," Sara grinned madly, proud of herself in that moment. "At the ball."

"Get out," the younger sister was all ears.

"I definitely want to do it again." Thea and her sister shared a laugh.

"If you think about it," Thea mused. "You're one upping Ollie. A doctor is a pretty good addition to the family. Lawyers are so boring."

"At least I'll have someone to take care of me when Mom disowns me," Sara chuckled. Thea smiled wide and laughed.

"Oh, that's true," she agreed. "Until you find a job." Both laughed at that. Humour served them well in the face of hardships and unconquerable expectations set upon them, and soon they were giggling like they had as kids and figured out that they could make the staff have water balloon fights with them.

"God, I'm so fucked," Sara tried to stop laughing and shook her head. Thea just nodded and did the same.

"It looks like we are going to be delayed," Digg entered the cabin again.

"How long?" Thea lost her mirth.

"There's a huge storm over home, and it won't pass until late tonight. The pilot doesn't want to risk it."

"Mom wanted me to pass my senior year didn't she?" Thea unbuckled. "First she sends me on this bogus trip and then she conjures a fucking storm!" she ranted. "I just want to go back to school and take off this stupid crown, for five minutes."

"Alright, calm down," Sara stood. "One more night." She felt as bothered as Thea. Even she wanted to blame their mother for the storm that delayed their return. She must have sensed her plans to visit Felicity. Like a mythical warlock, Sara decided and shook her head.

* * *

No reason.

Felicity convinced herself that there was no reason she meticulously tidied her apartment after work. There was also no reason she lit the nice candles she found at the market in the summer that just sat there usually. There wasn't even a reason that she showered and put on the nice red lipstick she bought downtown that cost too much and she used not enough.

Done with fussing over a stack of books and hanging her bag on the back of the chair by the counter, Felicity looked at the clock once again. For no reason. She looked in the mirror near the door and checked her hair, only to find it looking exactly as it did not fie minutes before when she did the same thing. All for no reason.

Thunder and lightning boomed and flashed outside, hurling rain harder against her windows, and for a moment she convinced herself that it was for no reason, and she really wasn't waiting for someone to show up at her door because here is no way someone would be out in the storm. But she couldn't be sure, so she made herself sit and she opened her laptop for the tenth time since she got home from work.

_I don't think I've ever been so excited to come home, _she read to herself, unconsciously leaning forward and smiling. _I think I would get in trouble if I use the jet to have burgers flown in from across the globe, but would I still be invited to stay if I brought you something else from one of my stops?_ _I honestly don't know what I'm doing, but I can't stop. And I would like to see you__. The hours are nearly all counted_.

Felicity had fired off a response email before lunch. She wrote quickly and tried not to correct it because if she wasted time like that she would never respond, and she waited long enough between emails anyway. She always got too excited when the noise blooped on her computer and it was from Sara, and found herself growing forlorn when it went off and it wasn't. Unfortunately that was more often the case than hearing from the princess. But she liked writing to her, and she liked reading Sara describe some of the places she went. And she liked some of the things she said in general, just about her sister or a memory she had, or anything of the sort. They were never exceptionally long, but they were nice. Felicity liked talking to Sara in a mildly unofficial capacity.

_I hope your day is nice, and the surgery goes well. Here's hoping I make it back without dying of exhaustion first.__ À la prochaine, ma chérie. _

There was no reason for Felicity to be so nervous and excited. Sara never said she was coming. If anything she was constantly writing with this doubledness to her, this feeling that she would allow herself an inch, and then retreat two more, she would allow herself to be sweet and charming, and then become all business. There was no explicit reason for Felicity to wait and believe that she would show up at her doorstep after being away for nearly a month. But for some reason she just knew it. Someone doesn't kiss like Sara and then not show up. There was something, and if Sara wasn't going to think about the implications, either was Felicity. She convinced herself that she could live moment to moment and see what happened. She wasn't attached, she reminded herself. She cleaned her house for no reason other than it needed to happen at some point. She wore her favourite skirt for no reason other than it was clean and she hadn't worn them in a while. She lit candles for no reason other than the storm.

No reason.

Two anxious hours later, and with the storm quieting and fighting to keep asserting itself like a sleepy toddler, Felicity relinquished her hope that there was a reason to do all of those things.

"Hello?" she answered the unfamiliar number that appeared on her phone as she tried kicked her heels off in her bedroom.

"Bonsoir, Dr. Smoak," a familiar voice smiled through the phone. Felicity was sure she could hear the cocky grin. She hobbled on her one leg as she undid her heels and nearly lost her balance when she heard the voice. "Felicity?" Sara asked, unsure if the doctor was still there.

"Sara?"

"Unless you know any other princesses."

"You're calling me," Felicity swallowed and managed to find herself on solid ground. She could only speak in facts while she tried to get over her shock.

"I am," Sara chuckled. "I got stuck here because of some little storm back home."

"It's raining here. It rained all day," Felicity said like a weather recording that flashes over cable. "You're calling me," she said again, this time to make sense of it for herself, as if she couldn't believe it while it was happening. She smiled big to herself and found herself vibrating slightly.

For some reason, Felicity hadn't thought of ever calling Sara, and even if she could have reached her somehow, she wasn't sure she would had the guts to do it. Sara, on the other hand, had Felicity's phone number memorized after carrying it around with her for twenty-four days. She nearly did, multiple times, but caught herself when she reached the last few digits, a burning worry in the base of her brain stopping her.

"I wanted to see you tonight," Sara confessed. "But I'm stuck here. So I thought... I could talk to you. Which is better than an email, right? And maybe it would make the time pass a bit quicker, because I am so bored, and I expected to be home already... And I was looking forward to seeing you."

"Yeah, definitely, yeah. Totally, definitely," Felicity pranced a bit in her room. There had been a reason, and she would have been right. She felt validated and excited and altogether giddy. Both were quiet and grinning like idiots. "It's good that you called. It's totally okay. Good idea. Definitely."

"How are you?" Sara finally remembered that was an appropriate question in a phone conversation. Felicity threw herself into her bed.

"Good, really good," she thought it over. "It's kind of weird to hear your voice."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "Its been a while."

Felicity stretched in bed, unable to sit still. She wiggled and shifted and waited for Sara to say anything else. But instead it was quiet, and she enjoyed the quiet between the lines. The fact that Sara called her made her heart race. It wasn't fair, what this girl did to her without even trying. It wasn't good to have a crush on someone so unattainable, but that didn't stop Felicity. She couldn't stop it.

"It's kind of nice, just being quiet, too," Sara sighed. Felicity closed her eyes and hummed in agreement.

With the pattering of rain on the window, Felicity strained to hear Sara at the other end of the phone. She wondered if she could hear the rain. She wondered if she could hear her antsy-ness.

"You kissed me, at the ball. You kissed me," Felicity realized out loud. "That was the last time I saw you. When you kissed me."

"You kissed me back," Sara defended herself.

"Yeah," Felicity nodded, getting out of bed and moving into the living room.

"I was going to kiss you tonight," Sara lamented. "I was going to knock on your door and kiss you again, because that's all I've thought about doing since you left that night."

Felicity stood, frozen and smiling at Sara's words. She felt her spine straighten and the jitters appear in her hips and her lungs and her muscles.

"I probably would have kissed you back," she finally decided, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

"Just probably?" Sara needled. She had her charm turned on, and she had a way of making Felicity bashful.

"Yeah, just probably," Felicity decided, catching herself in the mirror, lipstick on and hair done. Definitely. There was no probably about it. She would have definitely let Felicity kiss her. That was beyond a doubt.

"Well, I suppose that will just have to do then."

Felicity found herself walking aimlessly through her apartment, just following her legs as they refused to sit still.

"Tell me about your day?" Sara asked in the quiet.

Felicity flopped on her couch and stared at the candle on her coffee table.

"I dunno," she shook her head. "I just really wish you could have been here."

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

"There was a tumour the size of a golf ball eating its way into this little boys lungs," Felicity recalled, neck burning under her hand as she switched back to answer Sara's original question. They didn't address it or bring it up again and Felicity started to answer Sara's many questions.

* * *

"It really took that long," Sara adjusted the phone on her shoulder and pulled at her pant legs. Rolling onto her back in the big bed, she kicked them off with flailing legs. "I just always assumed he ran away, and then my mom told me the truth, and she was surprised I hadn't figure it out all these years later." The pants hit the wall on the other side of the room and Sara let her newly freed legs hang from the bed in victory.

"I never had a pet," Felicity realized. Her chopsticks dropped the piece of broccoli they were fumbling. It took her a moment to think to dig for it. "So at least you had one for a few years."

"Not even a fish?" Sara asked, turning just her head to see the mini bar.

"Not even a fish," Felicity repeated. She adjusted her legs, folding them beneath her as she leaned against the wall and sat atop her kitchen counter. "But I've always wanted one."

"You've always wanted a fish?" She grabbed one of the tiny bottles in the fridge and dug through the candies.

"A pet." The broccoli evaded her once again until she gave up and let it have its win to survive another day in her fridge. "I always thought I would be a conscientious pet owner. Up-to-date shots and tags and fresh water and food and anything else. But we never lived anywhere long enough to have one. My mom was always afraid that it'd get lost, or our new place wouldn't allow them."

"I've never really moved. I've lived in two places my whole life." Sara popped a chocolate in her mouth and looked out the window at the city before her.

"What's it like?" Felicity set down her take-out box. Her knees slid up and her arms went around them. First her chin, and then her cheek rested there.

For a moment Sara paused, mid pace. She swallowed her chocolate and thought long and hard. After the few hours they'd spent on the phone, a few moments of silence weren't unexpected. The door slid open without a sound and she crept onto the balcony, legs shivering in the late winter air that seemed to constrict the air itself.

"It is kind of terrifying," Sara confessed, peeping over the balcony. "I guess I never thought about it." Her breath turned to clouds. "I don't know anything else, and that makes me scared. What would I do without my palace? Without my last name? It's all I have. It's all I am and all I've trained to be. I know every inch of the property. I know every inch of who I am there."

"Maybe you don't know every inch," Felicity mused. The phone jiggled on her shoulder while she shoved containers into her fridge and rinsed her glass in the sink. "If you think of your house like a history, like a timeline, like the dinosaurs at the museum, right?" Sara shivered and spit from the penthouse to the ground. "And it's filled with all of these dates and moments, all marked on this timeline that is your house and you, and they all make you, up to this point. Up to this exact moment. Up to this exact second. Right now. You have millions of seconds to fill up with whoever you're going to be. The rest of the timeline is always there. Who are you right now?"

"Right now?" Sara echoed, staring at the lights of a city at night.

"Right this minute," Felicity smiled. She blew out the candle in her kitchen, noticing how melted it was. She did the same in the living room and checked her locks.

"Right this minute, I am Sara." The cold was too much and she opened the door, retreating into the hotel room. "I don't know what else I can be."

"Yeah, but who are you?" Felicity pushed her skirt off and worked on unbuttoning her shirt. "Who do you want to be?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" She closed the curtains and latched the door.

Sara crawled into her large bed, throwing the extra pillows to the floor one-by-one while Felicity brushed her teeth.

"Who do _you_ want to be?" Sara asked, shivering beneath the sheets. Felicity looked at herself in her bathroom mirror for a moment before she spit.

Sara listened to the running of water from her bed. The question nagged at her in the silence, and for the first time, she was anxious for it to end. Felicity gave herself one more look as she turned off the sink. Standing straight, she pulled up her hair and slipped on her old sweats that were on the floor from the night before.

Turning off the light, she made her way into her bed, cradling the phone to her ear, trying to figure out the riddle. The rustling eventually quieted and Sara turned over in bed.

"I want to be someone that people would miss if I left," Felicity decided after a few minutes of staring at her ceiling. "I want to be someone who doesn't leave."

The absoluteness in her voice made Sara achy and yearn for the same thing. She wanted to tell her that being stuck somewhere wasn't always the best. Instead she just pulled the sheets up to her chin. Felicity took a deep breath and watched a car's headlights slide along the dark wall of her room.

"I want to be someone that would make my sister proud," Sara whispered. "I want to be the person my dad thought I could be." Felicity yawned and followed another car. "I don't want to be so angry anymore."

"I would have never described you as angry."

"I'm angry all of the time," Sara confessed.

"I don't think I've been angry enough," Felicity realized.

Their respective cities slept quietly in the late hours while each stared at the ceiling of their respective rooms, lost in their own heads, sprouting questions like daisies.

"I want to be someone who you want to be around," Sara said. She reached over and turned off her light, bathing the room in darkness that her eyes took their time adjusting to completely. Felicity smiled until her cheeks hurt and buried her face in her pillow.

"You already are," Felicity explained once she regained control of her cheeks. "You're cute."

Sara grinned and closed her eyes, happy and alive and excited.

"I think that's my line," she chided.

"You have to be quicker on the draw, Princess." Felicity grew bold in the late hour. Sara snorted with laughter.

"Consider my game turned up," Sara warned.

"Now I'm shaking."

"Soon enough."

Sara's eyes popped open with her words. She held her breath and debated what to do. She could apologize. She should apologize. She wasn't even sure where that came from, but it did. It popped right out. She made an innuendo so naturally that it startled her slightly.

"Promises, promises," Felicity yawned. Sara grinned and let out the pent up oxygen. "I don't even know if I should kiss you again. You might disappear for another month."

"No more trips," Sara promised. "You're going to get sick of me popping up."

"Promises, promises."

Sara bit at her lip anxiously. She was hopeful and eager and it made her feel as if she was hiding something by not being honest with Felicity. And she was getting so swept up in it, it was too late to turn back. If she made these promises and kept them, then things would change.

"This will be hard," she said sternly. "Just so you know. Whatever is... you know... us... or... whatever this might become. It will be very difficult and probably too much and I'm very sorry for that." She strained her ear to listen for anything at all. She checked her phone to make sure she hadn't hung up.

"Did you not hear about the golf ball-sized tumour I removed?" Felicity began sleepily.

"I can vaguely recall."

"Well, I kinda figured that dating a princess might be a bit complex, and I just so happen to be okay with complex things. They can always be made simple with a little elbow grease."

"Yeah," Sara agreed, nodding to herself to make it true. Felicity hugged at her pillow, exhaustion and all setting into her bones despite her valiant effort to combat it for every minute longer with Sara. "I should let you sleep. You actually have a job to go to."

"I dunno, being a princess seems more exhausting."

"We should trade for a day," Sara chuckled.

"I don't want to say goodnight thought," Felicity realized.

"How about 'I'll see you tomorrow'?"

"Yeah, I could use that," Felicity smiled.

"And it can be true, if you'd like," Sara ventured.

"Definitely."

"I will see you tomorrow, Dr. Smoak," Sara grinned to herself.

"Oh, don't do that," Felicity whined. "Don't ruin such a good night."

"I will see you tomorrow, Felicity," Sara corrected.

"Much better." Felicity smiled triumphantly and enjoying the way her name sounded in Sara's mouth. "See you tomorrow, Sara."

For a moment she stared at her phone before hanging up. She had never been on the phone for five hours before, nor could she ever imagine doing it again. Felicity fell fast asleep as the phone went quiet. Sara found herself staring at the screen as it went blank and wondering what they even talked about for that long. No matter what it was, she felt as if she had discovered that realness again, that genuineness that sometimes felt unattainable in her position. All she wanted to do was hear Felicity talk about anything else.

Instead, she took a deep breath and fell asleep with a smile on her face, eager for the excruciatingly long day ahead of her.


	6. Chapter 6

_Between your blissful kisses, whisper -_  
_Darling, is this love?_

Cooking was not Sara's strength. She never had much interest in it and she never had the need to learn. At the drop of a hat, a chef could make her anything she wanted and probably better than she could ever hope to do herself. That didn't mean she had completely lived a life free of the kitchen. Naturally, as a child, she wanted to help with the baking and the licking of spoons. She had been known to excel at sandwich making, provided she didn't have to locate the ingredients herself in the giant fridges and coolers. And more than once she'd watched her father make eggs in the middle of the night when neither could sleep.

Normally, her lack of thought about the kitchen or abilities therein didn't bother her. What use would knowing how to bread chicken or sauté vegetables or boiling eggs ever be to her when she would live her entire life in a castle of some sort with a staff of some size. The necessity was never there, and the overwhelming urge to learn the specialized art of cooking in general was never appetizing.

And at this moment, Sara regretted it more than she thought she regretted anything in the history of regretting.

"Ouch, fuck," she pulled back her hand quickly as she burned it once more on a pan in the oven. "You're a fucker, you know that?" she asked between gritted teeth.

"There is no need to insult the oven," Oliver strode through the kitchen door, curious about the strange smells and sounds coming from there. "What's the saying...? A poor craftsman blames his tools?"

"It's a box of heat," Sara said, heaving and slamming a hot pan on the counter. "I refuse to let it beat me." She slammed the oven door shut a little more roughly than should have been required.

Her brother leaned over the counter and stared at the concoction that sat, burnt and angry on the pan.

"I'm going to go ahead and call this match in favour of the box of heat," he said, picking at the blob curiously. "Because there is no way this is edible. And it smells. Bad."

"Okay, alright," Sara slapped his hands away as she surveyed her poor, massacred dinner.

"Seriously, Sara, what is it supposed to be?" he gazed at it, captivated by the failure.

"The chef said it would be easy. It's just a simple pizza. How hard does that sound?"

"Not at all," he agreed, stunned that she could turn pizza into... whatever this was. "But apparently it must be more difficult than anyone could imagine."

"Okay, thanks," the sister shook her head and stood, hands on hips, surveying the disaster she'd made in the kitchen on her quest to craft any sort of sustenance before Felicity arrived.

"Don't eat that," Oliver advised, finally taking a step back, afraid it might attack him or something.

"Fuck," Sara threw the dish towel from her shoulder onto the counter in defeat.

"Why don't you come have dinner with Laurel and I?" Oliver asked after watching his little sister stare daggers at the ball of burnt and raw dough. "Mom and Thea are settling in back at her school, and there's no one else here. I want to hear about your trip and everything anyway. It'll be a great excuse to catch up and you won't be all alone in the empty house."

"I... uh..." Sara looked around the kitchen for an excuse. "I'm having company." She watched her brother's smile grow as the realization dawned. That explained the attempt at home-cooked food. That explained her insistence that she was tired and Mom should help Thea settle in her dorm back at school.

"Hot doctor?" he looked, wide eyed at his sister.

"Weren't you leaving?" she asked, avoiding his gaze and moving to throw away her monstrosity. With disgust and disappoint, she let it slip from the ban into the rubbish, unable to even think of what to do next. Her plan had been simple, to make something so Felicity wouldn't think she was a spoiled, pampered princess who could spend thousands of dollars on one cheeseburger.

"I think I have a few minutes," he said, checking his watch. "I want to meet her." Sara grew mortified at the thought.

"No way," she shook her head, tossing the pan into the sink. "She gets nervous enough coming to the palace and I think I just got her to forget that I'm a princess. I'm not going to surprise her with the future ruler. Her head will explode."

"Oh man," Oliver leaned against the counter and picked at some of the peppers still sitting on the counter. "Now I definitely think I have a few minutes." Sara just gave him a look. "What?" he asked innocently. "It's not like I'm going to tell Mom."

"Please?" she asked.

"Why can't I meet her?" he quizzed. "Are you embarrassed by me?"

"I'm not," she shrugged. "I just... I kind of want to ease her into... this," she gestured to the walls surrounding them. "I don't even know what this is. I don't... Just no."

"I'll just say hi," he promised.

"No," she shook her head.

"I'll just sneak a peek, and be gone in less than a minute," he tried.

"Get out." She pushed him towards the door.

"Just to see how she reacts."

"Go!"

"I want to see your goo-goo eyes."

"Get!"

"Sara and Felicity, sitting in a tree -"

"Ollie!"

"K-I-S-S-"

"Stop!"

"I-N-G."

"What are you, eight?"

"Ahem," a voice cleared at the opposite end of the kitchen, interrupting the kerfuffle of the siblings by the other door. Digg just shook his head, amused at the antics. Sara froze, stalling her arms as they attempted to push her brother out of the room. Before she could react, she found herself a statue, stuck in the position of pushing with all her might against her brother's larger frame. When Felicity smiled Sara righted herself quickly.

"Hi," Felicity waved, not moving.

"Hi," Sara returned. Self-consciously she fixed her hair and grinned.

"Hello." Oliver freed himself from his sisters shove and straightened his coat with an entertained and eager smile. "You must be Dr. Smoak." Startled and realizing that there was another royal in the room, Felicity turned to him. Sara was convinced she saw the moment that Felicity's brain exploded.

"Hello, your Royal Serene... Majesty," Felicity swallowed hard. She wanted to look at Sara again, and pretend that her brother wasn't going to be coronated and wear an even bigger crown and rule a country. But she couldn't. Oliver cocked his head. Sara grinned and giggled. Her brother had been right. It was fun to watch. But she decided to make Felicity a cheat sheet, so she could figure out titles. Perhaps she wouldn't even try to tell her the entirety of her own just yet.

"I won't take up your time," Oliver rescued her from trying again. He took a few steps and shook her hand. Sara watched her smile shakily. "I was just leaving. It was nice to meet you, Docteur." With a flourish and bow, he lifted Felicity's hand to his lips and kissed sweetly. Sara rolled her eyes.

"Yes, nice to... meet you," Felicity managed. Oliver grinned the same grin that Sara had and it disarmed Felicity. She thought she had readied herself to be at the palace, but casually running into the prince was even beyond her ability to prepare for completely.

"Digg," Oliver moved to the bodyguard, patting his shoulder with a firm slap. "I'll see you."

"Goodbye, your Grace," he nodded.

"Be good," Oliver called to his sister and with one last look at Felicity moved to exit from whence they came. He flashed Sara a hopeful nod and smile before pushing through the door and disappearing.

Felicity was left staring at the ground for a moment before looking up at Sara. Twenty-five days since she kissed her. That was all she could think. Bashful and remembering all of the embarrassing things she said on the phone the night before, Felicity felt her chest warm and her skin prickle. The words came so easily last night when she didn't have to look at her. When she didn't get distracted by Sara's dimples and lips and eyes. Now, she suddenly felt afraid of everything she said.

"I will be in the library," Digg watched the quiet and decided to excuse himself. Neither girl addressed his leave.

For a second, Sara just smiled at Felicity.

"So that was my brother," she laughed awkwardly.

"He's much taller, up close," Felicity decided, quite seriously.

"Yeah, he gets that a lot," she nodded, equally as serious. "You can come in. There aren't anymore heirs to the realm that will be dropping by, I promise." Felicity grinned sheepishly and pulled at the sleeves of her coat as she took measured steps into the kitchen.

"I thought that went well," Felicity explained.

"It went somewhere," Sara teased, leaning on the counter. She watched Felicity carefully hang her coat on the back of a chair. "I'm glad you came."

"When you're summoned by a princess..." Felicity shrugged, nonchalant and cool. She watched Sara take a few steps closer. Her lungs stuttered for her.

"That's not the only reason you came," Sara told her. She said it confidently, but for some reason she was afraid of the truth. Maybe it had been that. Maybe there hadn't been a way to say no.

"No," Felicity agreed, rooting her hands on the counter. "I came because it's been nearly a month and you keep disappearing and I wasn't going to miss an opportunity to see you and I have fun every time I get to spend time with you, and I could really use a fun night with someone that I enjoy spending time with." She said it all in one breath.

"Good," Sara decided, confidence fully restored, and breathing a sigh of relief.

"And I was promised food, which is always a plus," Felicity shrugged.

Somehow she had taken a step towards Sara. She wasn't sure when or how. Most likely during her rambling and thinking and fumbling. Sara stood straighter and watched Felicity come closer. It was subtle, but there.

"Food yes," Sara nodded. She couldn't even think about the fact that there was no food. That didn't matter. "But I'm going to kiss you now," Sara warned, taking the final step. "Is that alright?" Felicity swallowed and snapped her eyes to Sara's. There wasn't the grin until Felicity nodded her head quickly, first just a bob that turned into full permission. "Okay then," Sara smiled.

Excruciatingly slow, Felicity felt Sara lean closer. She licked her lips and held her breath. Soft as a breeze at first, Sara kissed Felicity. Testing the water, afraid of diving head first into shallow waters, Sara moved her lips against Felicity's. It was chaste for a moment, until Felicity's hand slipped into Sara's hair and her body pressed against hers. And then Sara felt the downpour of a tempest. The winds that would shake a house apart rattled her bones. Felicity kissed her for twenty-five days. Sara kissed her for this moment. Steady and calm, Sara tried to hold on during the rush that accompanied Felicity's lips. But she felt dizzy and stupid. Her hands fumbled with Felicity's neck. Her hip pushed against Felicity's until it pinned her against the counter.

She would never admit it, but Sara was afraid their first kiss had been a fluke, influenced and laden with champagne and the magic of the party. But that kiss had nothing on this one. This one was... This one was... This one never should end, she thought as Felicity's arms wrapped around her shoulders.

With Sara's hands on her hips and her thumbs digging into the bone there, Felicity pushed against her and was more than alright with being pushed back. As Sara's arms wrapped around her, Felicity didn't know what to focus on: her lips or her hands or her hips or the satisfied hum that came from that throat. She wanted it all, and she didn't even care anymore.

"Wow," Sara pulled away, chest heaving and eyes blinking to focus. Her hands pressed against the cool of the countertop, trapping Felicity there. She didn't want to stop, but she also couldn't keep going. She was walking on the ledge of a bridge, and once she jumped, there was no going back.

"Worth the wait," Felicity nodded, trying to catch her breath. "Definitely," she swallowed roughly. Her arms loosened slightly but hung over Sara's shoulders, her fingers gradually unwound themselves from the base of her hair. She couldn't figure out how they got so tangled together, but she didn't fight it.

Suddenly Sara started giggling. Felicity caught it. Neither could stop as much as they tried.

"We're going to kill each other if this keeps escalating every twenty-five days," Sara explained, dropping her forehead to Felicity's shoulder. She shook it while she laughed. Felicity toyed with the secret baby curls at the base of her neck.

"What a way to go though, huh?" Felicity tightened her arms around Sara once more. She felt Sara's do the same.

For the first time that she could remember, she hugged the princess and the princess hugged her. They stood in the kitchen of the palace, entirely alone and all they could do was laugh, and sigh, and shake their heads at the ridiculousness of it all.

* * *

"It's not funny," Sara shook her head and pretended to be wounded.

"I've never seen a pizza look like that," Felicity laughed after taking a swig of her beer.

"Alright, you know, I've never used the oven before," Sara pushed eggs around the frying pan a little more while they cooked. That just made Felicity laugh more. Sara frowned and moped and cooked as best she could. She was unaccustomed to failure, and even more unaccustomed to someone witnessing and mocking her for it.

"It was still a sweet gesture," Felicity offered once she stopped laughing. "I mean it. You tried really hard."

"I'm just glad you don't mind eggs and toast."

"Breakfast is one of my favourite meals," Felicity promised. "Plus, who else in the entire world can say that a princess cooked them eggs in the palace kitchen? This is like... I don't even know. This never happens."

"And it won't happen again," Sara shook her head as she pulled bread from the toaster. "I'm officially retiring from my culinary career."

"What a waste," Felicity teased.

"All I wanted to do," the princess lamented, "was to show you that I can be normal. I mean... function. Without servants and junk, so you wouldn't get rattled by me and the whole princess thing." Angrily she buttered the toast.

"Well obviously that's not true," Felicity shrugged, watching Sara furrow her brow and spread the butter with a little more vigour than normally required. "You grew up in a palace, and eating a meal with me in the kitchen doesn't negate the fifty person dining room with golden forks and silver platters and chandeliers bigger than a car."

"It's a sixty-eight person table," Sara corrected, sliding the bread onto the plates she managed to find. Felicity just rolled her eyes.

"You're missing my point," Felicity shook her head. Sara focused on filling the plates with eggs. "You're a little different than most. I appreciate that you worked so hard on making it a little easier for me." Sara smiled.

"It's not pizza, but I did make them," Sara slid the plate in front of Sara and pulled up the chef's stool to join her.

"Honestly, this is probably the most normal thing you could have made," Felicity tried to put Sara at ease. "How in the world did you learn to make eggs?"

"My dad taught me," Sara explained, focusing on her plate, afraid to look up because if she did she would remember her father sitting where she was now with his face and his booming laugh and easy smile, and she would feel sad. She knew she would. And she didn't want that. Not tonight. "Sometimes he couldn't sleep, and he'd make himself a plate and finish the crossword puzzle the porter could never figure out." Sara laughed slightly and pushed the food around her plate.

"I love crossword puzzles," Felicity blurted, aware that she had struck a sensitive chord with her questions. Sara shook her head and took a bite, finally look up. "You probably wouldn't have guessed how proficient I am in them."

"I might have, actually," Sara grinned.

"Ha ha," Felicity deadpanned.

"It's a compliment. You've got that whole nerdy chic thing," Sara offered, hoping she understood it was a compliment. Felicity took a bite and eyed her enough to make her regret it. "Seriously though," Sara shrugged. "Do you know how daunting it is to try to keep up with you? I'm just a princess, and that I was born into, but you're like... you know, a certified genius who literally removed a heart from a boy and put another in and it worked. That's terrifying. I can't even cook a pizza."

"I'm the scary one now?" Felicity questioned.

"You've always been the scary one," Sara informed her. "Behind the tiara and junk, I'm just a girl who can only cook eggs. You save babies."

"That's true," she agreed with mock-confidence.

"Uh oh, I might have created a monster," Sara worried. "I should have never admitted how wonderful and beautiful you were." Sara watched Felicity's ears burn as she complimented her.

"These are really good," was all that the doctor could manage a few minutes later.

"I'll pass your compliments to the chef," Sara quipped as they finished.

"My first official meal with a princess was lukewarm cheeseburgers, it's only fitting that eggs were the second."

"Maybe one day we'll have a proper meal," Sara sighed. "You know, with actual food."

"I wouldn't want to rush anything."

"Of course not," she agreed with a smile. "Though we do have the entire palace to ourselves and we can do anything we want."

"Sometimes, you say things that I never thought I'd ever have said to me in my entire life," Felicity sipped the last of her bottle. "And that is definitely a sentence I never expected."

"I aim to please," Sara sipped hers as well. Felicity died with her cocky grin and lips on the bottle and eyes and words and everything. All that she could do was take a deep breath and try to ready herself for whatever else was coming.

* * *

"Maybe we should..." Felicity closed her eyes and forgot what she was saying. "At least put a movie on," she recovered.

Sara hummed against her neck. Felicity pulled her tighter and tilted her chin, betraying her words. Her hands slid to Sara's shoulders before tangling in her hair once more. Greedy and eager, Sara kissed every inch before her. She tasted the delicate skin of Felicity's neck and rooted her nose in her hair and never wanted to leave. She bit at her jaw, she found the spot that made her gasp and hold her breath.

"Never mind," Felicity whispered, arching her back and pushing against Sara's body. Sara felt Felicity's leg against her hip as she squirmed beneath her. She registered her words, but couldn't think of any worth saying at this moment. Instead she kissed her again, slow and deep, tasting and teasing. Felicity drove her crazy. She had been in the theatre with her for three minutes before Felicity bit her lip, looked at Sara's and kissed her. She hadn't even listed two movies as an option to watch... And now she jumped off the bridge and was waiting to inevitably hit the water. The fall was worth it though, she knew that.

"Goodness," Felicity murmured, soft and breathless. Sara shivered and arched her back like a cat as Felicity ran her fingers along her shoulder blades, and her nails up her neck, and her fingers through her hair, pulling hard and kissing her again. Sara couldn't even breath.

Shaking and reigning the urge to do a lot worse, Sara's hand bounced between brave and fearful on Felicity's hip. To move it would be rounding a base, and Sara knew that despite her dislike of baseball metaphors. And through however long they'd been adventurously tame in their steamy tussling, it had been overwhelmingly innocent, always stopping just shy of anything else.

Felicity swallowed a plea when Sara's hips shifted against her hips. She tried to keep her own still. She tried to not push, but she was failing and she knew it and she didn't care because Sara kissed like the world was ending, and maybe it was, but Felicity didn't want to lose that earnestness. She shivered as Sara's hand slid under her shirt and her thumb found her lowest rib.

"We shouldn't," Sara pulled away slowly. In the dim lighting of the theatre room she saw what she'd done to Felicity's hair, and even what she had begun to do to her neck and swallowed roughly. "We could stop - " she started, chivalry burned into her DNA in some ways. She didn't get far. Felicity grinned and tugged on the front of her shirt. She kissed Sara quiet. All she wanted to do was protest against someone tasting so good, but it was pointless. She got swept up in her. She was inundated with her.

"We should," Felicity pulled away as Sara's hand slid higher. Pushing slightly she found herself atop Sara on the couch now. She pushed the hair from her face and tried to catch her breath. "We should stop," she said, leaning forward again. Her hands held Sara's neck, her thumbs toyed with her collar bone.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, legs shifting open even more. She grinned at Felicity, at her red-tinged cheeks and puffy, kissed lips. Her hand ran along Felicity's ribs, spreading across as much skin as she could find. Blindly she navigated contours until she was distracted by Felicity's lips attacking hers once again.

Neither wanted to stop. Neither knew why they should. There was no logical reason. Sara was afraid of how quickly she was becoming consumed, how easy it was for Felicity to dominate her brain, and now how easy it was for her body to be possessed, to respond to her so eagerly. But nothing mattered. Nothing except the pounding of the blood in her ears and Felicity's lips on her shoulder. She felt Felicity's hand along her thigh; she rose to meet it. She felt Felicity's teeth on her neck, she gave her more space. She felt Felicity's hand on her chest, she pushed herself into her hands, weak and wanting. And they both were on the bridge and ready to jump.

"Yeah," Felicity finally pulled away, unable to breathe. Sara lifted herself to kiss her as she pulled away and finally fell back against the cushions. She ran her hand through her own hair and licked her lips.

"Holy fuck," Sara shook her head, pulling at the very roots of her scalp.

"Agreed," Felicity chuckled weakly. With a sigh she all but collapsed atop Sara, settling her ear on her shoulder, attempting to listen for the remnants of a heartbeat. Sara could barely move. Her body was too electrified, and denying it what it wanted, what she wanted, that took all of her concentration.

"I like you," Sara whispered, hands clenching at Felicity's shoulders. She felt Felicity kiss her neck, soft and sweet, different from the slow and sloppy and eager kisses. Felicity kissed her jaw, she kissed her chin, she kissed her lips.

"I hadn't noticed," Felicity grinned, devious and confident. Without thinking she pushed hair from Sara's face and kissed her cheek.

"I'm subtle," she explained, smile widening.

"This escalated quickly," Felicity pulled away again.

"It took three months to get this far," Sara shook her head. "That's a slow burn."

"It's something," Felicity agreed.

"Ahem," a cough rang out near the entrance. Like a flash, Felicity hopped to the other end of the seats. Sara sat up just as fast, nearly clocking their heads together in the tumult. "I'm sorry, your Grace," Digg stood, facing the wall awkwardly. He didn't even try to turn around. Felicity pulled her shirt down and straightened her hair as best she could. Sara chuckled and watched, oblivious to how much of a disaster she looked like. "The Queen has returned and has requested your presence in her chambers."

"My mom?" Sara looked around awkwardly. "She's supposed to be with Thea until tomorrow."

"She came home early," Digg shrugged.

"I have to go," Sara stood quickly. "Digg will take you home."

"What? Yeah, oh, yeah, sure, okay," Felicity nodded. Her legs didn't think quickly enough to stand or try to follow Sara.

"I'm really sorry."

"No, it's fine, I get it," Felicity lied. She had no idea what was happening.

Sara got four steps towards the door before she turned around and took a deep breath to kiss Felicity. It was chaste and sweet and short.

"I will see you soon," she whispered, giving Felicity a small smile.

"Okay," was all Felicity could muster.

She watched Sara stalk across the room, agitated and distracted. At the door she spoke quietly to the bodyguard while Felicity stood and straightened herself as best she could. Sara gave her one last look and a sheepish glance before disappearing. The bodyguard handed her the coat she wore when she came in.

"We'll go through the back," he directed her through another door and Felicity understood.


	7. Chapter 7

_I don't want to live in my father's house anymore  
It's fair to say I've outgrown this old tin and weatherboard.  
It creaks and it groans and memories stowed  
in places where we both don't want to go._

"Alright, lean forward," Felicity instructed the little boy. "There we go," she warmed the stethoscope end before placing it on his back. A rumble of thunder made her listen harder. The little boy jumped at the flash of lightning. "Those sound pretty good, tonight, Max," she pulled the tubes out of her ears and hung the instrument around her neck. "Sounds like you've got a case of thunderstorms though in there."

"That was out there," he pointed with a chuckle. "Plus, these are new, so they better sound good," he said seriously, shaking his head and leaning back against the pillow. Like a phantom limb he moved to adjust the oxygen tubes that were no longer on his nose.

The thunder crashed and he jumped again. Felicity wrote on the chart and watched him from the corner of her eye while she worked. Anxiously he looked around, from the door to the window, before closing his eyes, taking a breath, and opening them again. Quietly she checked her watch and clicked her pen before slipping it into her pocket.

"Your mom still at work?" she asked, noticing how void the room was of his usually happy, yet tired mother. He nodded. "What about that sister of yours? You know, the tall one, with the muscles, she has really short hair, really deep voice?"

"That's my brother!" he explained. Felicity thought about it for a moment, pacing around the bed with the chart to her chest.

"Are you sure?" she asked. He nodded exaggeratedly. "Because I'm a doctor, and I think I would know if you had a sister."

"That's Roy!" he explained. "That's a boys name."

"Oh! That makes sense. I always thought it was short for Roychelle or something," Felicity shook her head and looked back at her chart. "So it's just Roy, you say?" she asked, looking up.

"He's definitely a boy and he has to work on Tuesdays after practice," Max explained, toying with the car on his tray table unenthusiastically. "He said he's going to teach me how to play soccer when I can run around. And by the time I'm his age, I'll be no the big team, too."

"Well, with those lungs, you should be running around extra fast," Felicity explained. "You'll be twice as good as your sis- I mean brother. You'll probably be pro by the time you're her, I mean _his_ age." The little boy looked down at the car on the table and frowned.

"I heard Amelie's mom say that her heart came from a dead adult, is that true?" He had big brown eyes that begged her not to lie to him. Felicity sighed and nodded. "My lungs came from a dead person too, then, right?"

"They didn't tell you?" Felicity stood up straighter and straightened the chart. He shook his head. "Those aren't just second-hand dead guy lungs," she shook her head. "Those," she pointed at his chest. "I grew those. I soaked them in..." she looked around the room to make sure they were alone before she could whisper, "I soaked them in a special chemical that makes them twice as powerful as normal lungs." She watched his eyes get big.

"No way," he shook his head, convinced she was lying.

"I swear," she nodded. "I grew them myself and added a little extra. But you can't tell anyone," she leaned in close to him. "Because I can't trust everyone, you know? I can only give _super_ lungs to a few people."

"I don't believe you," he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, I just hope you're careful when you blow on soup," she shrugged and returned to the foot of the bed. She watched him look at his chest curiously and think about it for a moment before a large thunder crash and lightning strike lit up the sky and echoed in the nearly empty, nighttime halls. He slid into his bed a little, pulling the covers up slightly.

"So, what are your plans tonight," Felicity asked, nonchalant and aloof. "Smoke a lil junk by the dumpster? Hit the chocolate milk a little rough? run the table at the underground casino?"

"I don't even know what that is," he shook his head with a smile.

"Steal a few cars for kicks? Cruise on some chicks by the wharf? Start a few brawls under the bridge?" She leaned over the end of the bed and eyed him hard and accusatory.

"No!" he shook his head hard, smiling a bit bigger.

"Okay, good, you're not busy then?" He looked at her and held his stuffed dog under the covers, embarrassed that he wanted it when it thundered and his family wasn't in. "Awesome, we'll go on a field trip," she decided, drumming her hands on the tray table.

"We can't," he hissed with a whisper, sitting up a little to look out the hall towards the nurses station. "It's after hours."

"It is," she agreed. "For patients, but not for Doctors. Where's that coat I let you borrow?" she crept around and opened the closet he pointed to before handing it to him to pull over his gown.

She helped him into the wheel chair by the bed, still hesitant to let him walk, and wheeled him through the halls.

"Okay, act natural," she leaned forward and whispered. She whistled and slowed her walk around the nurses station. "Good evening nurses," she waved. "Just a couple of doctors going to do doctor things. In the lab," she made sure they understood with a nod. "We have important research in the lab, isn't that right, Doctor?" Max nodded. "Have a good night," Felicity called over her shoulder as the entered the elevator. "Suckers," she said below her breath.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she hit the buttons.

"I'm going to prove your lungs are super lungs," she said."If you can keep a secret, that is."

"I can," he nodded eagerly.

"Alright then," she nodded, waiting for the bell to ring.

The lab that Felicity loved was below ground and the drumming of rain and cymbals of thunder were just muffled whispers. Being so late, it was quiet and nearly empty. Felicity's favourite time of day here. She waved to the security guard and pushed Max to the giant room at the end of the first hall.

Felicity spent the next hour showing him where she grew his lungs and the secret chemical that was simply solution. It kept him from being frightened in his bed while it stormed outside. It also kept her from going home and trying to figure out if she wanted to convince herself that everything that happened at the palace the other night was a dream. If she ignored it hard enough, she figured it could have been a dream. Then she didn't feel like a cheap piece of dirt.

Instead of wasting her efforts, she explained science-y things that she knew, things that were tangible and understandable for her, things that were figure-able and able to be solved. When things got hard, Felicity retreated to the realm of calculable and explainable absolutes. Eventually even the security guard popped his head in and joined the fun, asking questions and being genuinely intrigued by what he was guarding. For Felicity, it was all a bunch of welcomed distractions.

"This place is a maze," a voice finally startled the three would-be scientists in the lab.

"Roy! Look at this," Max waved his brother over. "My lungs looked like that once."

"How are you doing, little man?" the older brother fretted over the one in the wheel chair.

"Look at it," Max peered over the edge of the petri dish at the small clusters there.

"Hi, doc," Roy greeted Felicity. "Sorry I'm so late. Traffic is crazy in this storm."

"It's fine. I've had an amazing assistant," she assured him. "And I think it's about time we took you back up, Max," she decided. "If you're found missing during rounds, there will probably be this huge search and the police will come with the dogs and the swat van and all of that nonsense."

"Dr. Felicity," he leaned forward. "I won't tell anyone about these super lungs," he promised.

"Thanks," she leaned forward as well and nodded solemnly. "I'll walk you guys back before I head home," she stood, closing the incubator.

All too soon, however, Felicity found herself alone in her office after depositing the brothers back into their room. The storm still raged outside, though Max was more at ease with his big brother around, and Felicity felt unneeded for the night.

Her office was the last place she wanted to be though, second only to her own apartment. A bouquet of roses sat on her desk. A bouquet of lilies on her file. One of tulips on her table. One of orchids on the other filer. One of sunflowers on the spare chair. Her apartment had double the treatment in so many different shapes and colours, she wasn't sure how she was going to get them all out of there. Each with a different card, each wanting different things.

She'd spoken to Sara twice on the phone; short, quick conversations that raged with quiet and unexplained thoughts. It felt Felicity confused and utterly despondent and unclear about what her move was next. Because for some reason, if someone cooks you eggs and looks so cute and sheepish doing it, it means something. But then that someone bailed because her mother called her and snuck Felicity out like a secret. Felicity understood Sara's cryptic messages. She understood the Queens warning.

Closing the door behind her she inhaled the floral aroma that had established itself now. It strangled her throat. It made her smile sadly until she remembered who sent them and then she smiled a bit more sadly. It overwhelmed her, the vases and the white noise of the rain on her window and the daunting prospect of agonizing over Sara's emails again.

Grabbing her coat, she opened the door and decided she would rather take her chances in the storm.

"Good evening, Dr. Smoak." That voice haunted her. Felicity froze as it rang in her ears, and tired as she was, she pulled the keys from her door and turned around with a tentative smile.

"Your Majesty," she bowed a greeting.

"I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time. I'd like to talk to you about my daughter."

Felicity met her eyes and couldn't decide what to do. It wasn't an actual request. She didn't have actual options and she knew it. In the quiet halls of the offices she wished someone would stop by, she almost prayed for an emergency, for something that would save her. But the echo of a rumble of thunder was the only protest she got, and even that wasn't enough. Felicity saw the guards at both ends of the hall. She wished she could say no.

The Queen was terrifying, though. Not in a menacing way. That would be too simple. She held herself mightily, confident and assured from years of living her life. She had a quiet authority, regal and imperial. There was Sara's chin, too. And a hint of that smirk that seemed permanently playing at each of their lips. And Sara's hair, a few shades darker and shorter. Though they had different coloured eyes, Sara claiming that hers were her father's, both mother and daughter had a way of searching a person that made the subject of their gaze feel figured out, whether they wanted to be or not.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Felicity offered quietly.

"That would be lovely," The queen decided as she adjusted the coat in her arms and waited to follow the doctor. With a slight nod, Felicity swallowed and lead the way down the hall towards the lounge.

* * *

"Mom said to let her know when we get back," Oliver flipped through a notepad on his lap while the car stopped in the line of traffic. Sara barely listened and instead focused on watching raindrop races on the window. "She wants you to help to plan Thea's graduation party."

"Tell her that I'll plan it myself," she sighed and rested her forehead on the window, further obscuring the wet and slippery world outside.

"I'm not your messenger," he shook his head. "I don't know what's been going on for the past week, but it's getting ridiculous. Hug and make up like you always do, just hurry up because we have a wedding and graduation and coronation to plan, as a family, and it's hard running between the two of you."

"It's not that easy, Ollie," Sara explained, tilting her hair, but making no move to turn to acknowledge him any further.

"So what? you have to cool things off with the doctor, big deal. It's not forever," he shrugged, crossing his leg absently. Sara closed her eyes and pushed harder against the window. The car moved a few feet and stopped again. "Mom will lighten up, if this is what you really want."

"You didn't see the way she looked at me," Sara explained as she counted the seconds between thunder claps.

"Mom loves you," her brother assured her.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" she huffed, tired of it all. "If you love someone, you don't ask them to pretend to be something they're not, and you don't look at them the way she did. You don't tell them that they will ruin the family. You don't tell them that they are embarrassing. You don't tell them that they'll get over it."

"She said... wait... What?" Oliver asked, confused and alarmed.

"I can't do it anymore," Sara shook her head. "I just want to be happy. And I really like her. I don't know why and she probably hates me after the other night. She won't return my emails. But I like her. She makes me feel... like I can be "

"Mom said what to you?" he was still stuck on how uncouth and uncaring his mother could be. It didn't surprise him completely. His mother was balancing the welfare of the family in the public and the private lives of the family from the public. But to negate Sara's feelings, to say that... to not... He couldn't understand. It wasn't like he even thought about Sara though, if he was being honest with himself. He never payed attention. He never asked. Maybe that was worse than what his mother did.

"I'm done," she decided after a few moments of quiet. "I don't care."

"It's not true," he closed his thick notepad and uncrossed his legs, suddenly antsy and angry as well. "Whatever she said, it's not true. And I don't care what you do, as long as you're happy. You are not an embarrassment, and I won't hide you away." He knitted his eyebrows and watched her look out the window sadly. "Sara, you're allowed to like her. You're allowed to date her. You're allowed to do whatever you want. I swear."

"You and Thea think it's just that easy," she shrugged and stared at him, hating the empathy and pity in his eyes. "How hard was it to date Laurel?" Her brother searched her face and finally looked away. "Now imagine it being fifty times harder because you're being scrutinized and called the worst kind of names. Imagine the questions I'll have to answer, the things that will be written, the backlash of an entire nation potentially. If I did that to the family... if I did that to Felicity... I just. I don't know. It's just not as simple as wanting something."

The car moved a few more feet and stopped again. Sara stared at her brother until she couldn't stand his questioning glance and sorry expression. She looked out the window again. Thunder rumbled, grumpy and unsatisfied above them.

"It's always that simple," he mumbled, realizing it in the back of the car like an epiphany and lightbulb and lightning strike. "We love you no matter what," he said again. "So whatever you choose, we support. But you have to be happy. And I think it can be as simple as wanting it. That's all that really matters. That makes all the other parts easier."

Sara smiled at his words and nodded, not allowing them to sink it. She wanted to though. She wanted to want it. But she was terrified. The pressure to be a princess, to be adored by everyone, to do the right thing. She wanted it. She loved who she was and who she got to be and what she got to do and who she got to meet. She loved her family. But she wasn't happy with who she would be if she continued. Felicity's words echoed in her head, asking her, _who do you want to be?_ It replayed with every start and stop of the car. It bounced around her brain and drove her crazy trying to figure it out.

Leaning her head against the window again, she felt her brother doing the same on the other side of the car. The rain was dolloping itself against the glass.

But things had been different since she met Felicity. Things had been so much different that she hadn't even realized how horrible they had been. And now she knew and now she wanted nothing more than to be someone different. She wanted to be someone great. She wanted to be someone she admired, and that her brother and sister could be proud of and that her dad would have gushed about at parties.

In the dead streets outside the car, with the rain like a river in the gutters and a few people hurrying along with useless umbrellas, a pink neon sign of a sea horse loomed in the evening.

"I have to go," Sara decided. "Cover for me."

"Right now?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, unbuckling. "I gotta go get her." She grinned at her brother who watched her moving around the car. "I want it."

"Can't you want it after dinner?" he asked, checking his watch. The car moved again.

"No," she shook her head, looking out the window wildly. "It can't. Do you have any cash?"

"For what?"

"Don't worry about it."

"What am I supposed to tell Mom?" he asked, digging in his pocket for his wallet.

"I don't care," she shook her head, grin turning into a smile as she snatched the bills he held out.

"It's pouring out there," he reminded her, smiling at her fervour.

"I don't care," she shook her head again. "I will never be this sure. And I will regret letting this pass me by."

When the car came to a stop she opened the door.

"Thanks, Ollie. I love you and I'm sorry for what this might do."

"Go be happy," he shook his head. "I'll hold them off as long as I can."

Before she got out of the car she leaned over and kissed her brothers cheek before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered again. "You sounded like Dad, you know that?" He just gave her a weak grin and nodded slightly.

A second later Sara was gone into the storm and Oliver debated if he had made a huge mistake. First, letting his sister run around town unattended in the thunderstorm. But she knew the town. They spent hours plotting ways to sneak away as kids. And they did well sometimes. But to let her go and run into something that he hated to agree with his mother, but that would cause a lot of problems and pain for his sister. He shook his head and clung to how happy she had been, how wild she had become again, chasing impulse and throwing away security. He was a brother first, a fiancé second, and a prince third. Come hell or high water, he was going to support his sister because that was what big brothers did, and that was what good kings did, as well.

"Is everything alright, your Grace?" the intercom buzzed from the front of the car.

"It's fine," he returned. "Tell my mother I need to speak with her when I get home."

"Yes, your Grace."

* * *

The rain was fitting for Felicity's mood. Spring in this new home of hers was something that everyone warned her of, and she wondered if it would bother her when she moved, but now, now she was grateful for it. With her coat wrapped tight, rain boots sloshing, and umbrella snug atop her, Felicity was in a dry bubble making her way down the street. If had been a nice day, there would have been people milling about, happy and enjoying the breezy evenings and sitting on patios, drinking and laughing. The rain made a city quiet. The rain made things clean.

She could have taken a car or a taxi or the subway, but as she left the hospital, Felicity's feet carried her onwards without stopping, and before she realized it she was just a few blocks from home. The Queen's words echoed between her ears with every footstep and she berated herself for not having anything to say back to her. To have the ruler of a country break up... whatever was happening between them was kind of terrifying. But she saw motherly concern mixed with sovereign wisdom in the queens eyes, and that just made it more complicated.

As she turned on her street, Felicity shook her head, mocking herself for thinking that she had a fairytale on her hands. All that she wanted was her bed and to pull the covers up over her head until her memory allowed her to forget -

"Sara?" she asked, stuck and unable to move. Her fingers clasped around her keys in her pocket, but couldn't bring them out. None of her wanted to move.

"Hi," the princess in question waved sheepishly and shivering in the doorway of the building.

"What are you - ? Is that a - ? How did - ?" Felicity tried to think, but the questions all wanted answers at once.

"I got this for you," Sara held up a plastic beg filled with water and an oblivious little fish.

"You're soaking wet," Felicity stared at the bag, unable to handle Sara's eyes. Neither moved to correct anything. The rain fell all around Felicity's umbrella like a wall.

"It's raining," Sara nodded.

"You got me a fish?"

"Yeah. Flowers didn't seem to work," she tried. Felicity looked at her finally. Sara saw a pained, baffled expression. She watched Felicity take a deep breath and walk up the stairs of the stoop closer.

"The Queen came to my work this evening," Felicity said, lips tight and still not looking at Sara. "I don't-"

"Whatever she said, forget it," Sara stopped her. "Forget anything she ever told you. I'll deal with her later. Just... just listen to me now, okay?"

"I don't think it's a good idea-" Felicity closed her eyes and looked at her keys in her hand, fiddling with them nervously.

"Stop, please," Sara tried. She took a step closer, dripping and shivering and fish and all. "Just give me one shot..." She waited for Felicity to stop her. She just earned a lowered head and sigh. "I had it all messed up," Sara started, shifting the bag of water in her hands. "I thought I had to choose. I thought it would be hard, and it wouldn't be worth it. But I was wrong, because since you've been around, I've felt alive, and I've felt like I can do anything and like I deserve to try to be happy. And I haven't been honest to you and I haven't been honest to myself. But I want to try."

Sara had tried to form a speech the entire walk to Felicity's apartment. Through the rain and slick streets, she marched and rehearsed things she wanted to say, but now they all were fighting to come out in an imperfect order.

"Do you know what it felt like?" Felicity shook her head, willing the words to come out. "To be snuck out the back... I felt so... so... cheap. I never wanted to feel like that, like how I saw my mother. I spent my entire life avoiding her mistakes, and here I am, fulfilling it. A secret romance you have your driver bring back and forth. I understood the not being public thing. I get it. But your own mom? You hid me from your mother?"

"I'm sorry," Sara shook her head earnestly. "I never meant... I just... I messed up. I didn't know how to have both. I don't know how to have you and be a princess. And my mother, she has been right about a lot of things. And I thought about you and what this could do to you. But whatever this is... here... between us. It's not supposed to be easy." Felicity bit her lips and avoided Sara's eyes. Sara looked at the fish in her hands, unaccustomed to being so honest at one time. It was exhausting. "You asked me who I want to be. I want to be happy. I want to face the firing squad with you."

There was the whoosh of a car in the soaked street. Felicity felt the Queen's words fading in her head, the warnings and the veiled threats and the authority faded with Sara's hopeful eyes. It wasn't just Sara's fault that they were in this stalemate. Felicity pretended that they were in their own little world, far away from reality, as well. She let herself get swept away with it and was gone before she realized. But the harsh reality check of being snuck out the back door, Sara's doubled messages and constant flopping, they were real and they were protective and selfish to a degree.

"Just, don't listen to my mom. I don't care what anyone says. I don't care what they write or print or shout on television. If you don't want... this... then I hope it's because you just don't like me and not because you're afraid or because of what my mom said, or even something that I did. I want to do better, and I want to be better. I... because I... I care for you," she managed, throat constricting and jaw clenching after the words. Felicity saw the helplessness etched in her eyes, the defeat in the admission, the fear in the meaning.

Sara held her breath and felt the prickles of her wet skin. Tendrils of hair got in her eyes and stuck to her cheeks and neck, but she didn't care enough to move them. Instead she looked straight at Felicity and tried to figure out if there were any more words she had, anything else she could try. They hadn't even gotten started yet, and she'd doomed it to fail because she was afraid of being happy. Now she was ready to jump, ready to be alive, and it all rested on this other person.

Her shoulders were shivering. Felicity noticed that first. And then she noticed the white knuckles of her fist holding the bag. Thunder rumbled a few miles away, the storm passing and leaving for another town. She thought about it all, about eggs for dinner and emails and burgers and the kissing. Sara made big gestures because she knew that the tiny ones were the hardest. Felicity wanted to, but logically she couldn't fault her for being confused or scared or pressured by her legacy. They were just starting... whatever this was, and maybe it would be too hard, and maybe it would hurt. But Felicity knew, standing there in the rain, that stopping it before she gave it a chance, especially with the way Sara looked at her, and the way she felt, all giddy and alive, she knew that stopping it would be the biggest regret of her life.

"Did you get a bowl?" Felicity asked, moving to unlock the door. "Or a tank?"

"Huh?" Sara swallowed. "Oh yeah, no," she shook her head. "The guy was closing and I didn't think about it. He gave me food though. Just a little pack. I don't know how much it eats."

Felicity opened the door and motioned for her to follow.

"You got me a fish," she smiled, small and to herself, but it was there.

"Yeah," Sara nodded sincerely.

"Crap."

"Yeah."


	8. Chapter 8

_Do I have to tell the story  
of the thousand rainy days  
since we first met?_

Morning could become her favourite time of day, Sara thought as she stretched under the warm blankets. Finding herself starring at an unfamiliar ceiling, Sara ran her hands along her cheeks and over her face, yawning softly as she did. Groggily, the events of the previous night filtered into her cloudy brain. Unsure of even the words she used on the stoop, Sara racked the recesses of her mind for more. It had come out in a blurry, unconscious ramble, but she was sure she said what she needed to, and it must have worked. She was in the warm sheets and she was a morning kind of content.

Smiling and finally awake enough, Sara turned her head to find the bare back of a sleeping Felicity. Beyond the bed, the sun was filtering through the window with no sign of the storm in sight. Outside of that, Sara heard the rustling of traffic and morning waking in the streets, eager and chiming in church bells and clock towers and café doors. She didn't have time for anything outside of arms reach. She wasn't even sure how long she had for things within arms reach, but she wasn't going to waste anymore.

In a not even deep down space, Sara knew that they had things to talk about, and she may have won the battle, but they were gearing up for total war. She understood that this was just the beginning, and this might be the easiest it would ever be. But for just this extended night and morning, she didn't care. She was emotionally drained from her escapade and profession. All she wanted was to breathe and be alive and kiss the ivory protrusions of Felicity's spine.

And so she did. Slipping her arm around the sleepy doctor, she pressed her body against her warm back and kissed her back and neck and shoulders, slow and deliberate and measured. She spanned as much skin as she could without having to move her body. Lazily, her fingers memorized the skin of her ribs and chest and stomach and hips, moving at a snails pace over each contour. As she pulled away, she ran her fingers along her shoulder blades and arms and neck and everywhere, as if she could read her body like braille.

"Mmmmm," Felicity found herself curling closer into Sara's arms. Mornings were definitely her favourite time of day, especially if she could expect Sara's lips and wandering hands. She felt Sara's legs slide against hers, she felt Sara's skin on her skin. The previous night came barreling back at her in flashes and whispers. A sopping wet Sara on her stoop with a fish in a bag. Her words. The goose flesh on her skin when she peeled off her wet clothes. The taste of her lips and rainwater. Her hands on her body. Sara's sounds in her ears.

"Bon matin," the princess whispered as Felicity twisted in her arms. The accent and the grin and the dimples and the impossibly blue eyes that were like a morning sky kind of blue, warm and not yet awake or full of the sun; Felicity could get used to it quite quickly.

"Mmmph," Felicity grunted, settling back in. "I'm naked," she closed her eyes tightly as her body went slightly rigid with the realization.

"Yup," Sara grinned and nodded, reacquainting herself with the sight by peeking under the sheet. "Seems so." Felicity shook her held and pulled it back down.

"You got me a fish." She ran her hands over her eyes and shook her head.

"Oui."

"Last night we..."

"Oh yeah," Sara chuckled and grinned. Felicity was glad it wasn't just a dream. Sometimes dreams didn't happen more than once, and she definitely wanted whatever happened last night to happen again. And again. And possibly again.

"Okay, well don't sound so proud of yourself," Felicity scolded.

"Too late," the princess shrugged. "I charmed you. You were charmed. You like me."

"Ohh no," Felicity shook her head. "Just because I took advantage of you doesn't mean you charmed me."

"But you do like me?" Sara leaned forward a bit. She was on the edge of the pillow and nearly touching Felicity. The doctor just shrugged. Her blush betrayed her.

"Shh," Felicity closed her eyes again. "Let's just have this morning."

"Before you kick me out for good?" Sara tinted her words with faux worry.

"Before your mother finds us," Felicity opened her eyes again. "Before we're everything but this."

"We're."

"We're."

"Us."

"You like that, do you?" Felicity grinned.

"Yeah," Sara agreed.

"Just ask me out already," Felicity rolled her eyes, sick of Sara's good mood and mirth.

"As soon as I slay the dragon, like any good princess charming," Sara promised, leaning forward to kiss the beautiful girl in bed beside her. "I'll make a proper woman out of you yet."

"I've gotten in way over my head, haven't I?" Felicity worried with a yawn. She meant it as a joke, but the truth of it was unmistakable. Sara just stared at her with a funny furrow on her brow. She didn't know how to admit that she had, and she couldn't assure her that it would be alright.

"Probably," Sara frowned, honest and forthright and noble and all.

Felicity smiled and ran her fingers along Sara's eyebrow, soft and gentle. She hesitated as she focused on the intimacy of it. Sara watched her for a moment, memorizing the look on her face before she closed her eyes and let the doctor explore. The fingertips ran along the bridge of her nose, under her eyes, along her jaw, over her lips, slow and deliberate and if there was ever a moment that Sara could pinpoint that she fell in love with Felicity, it would be that quiet moment on a sunny morning when her fingertips redefined her existence.

Holding her chin between her thumb and finger, Felicity leaned forward and kissed Sara, slow and soft and languid as the day seeping through the window. She didn't know how to tell her that she was afraid and that she didn't care, or that she didn't know what to do or what it would cost, but so far, she was enjoying the ride. So she kissed her as sweetly and violently as she could.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Felicity whispered against her lips.

Sara grinned and decided to show her. Earning a giggle and Felicity's arms around her neck, she pushed herself atop the gorgeous doctor. Sheets fell to their hips and Sara kissed her deep and hard, different then the soft and reassuring gentleness Felicity introduced. If they were telling each other stories and they were making promises, Sara was making her stand and telling her how ferociously she would try and how horribly devoted she embarrassingly was already.

"The worst that could happen is you fall madly in love with me," the princess explained. "And we get swept up in a love affair that shatters the world and the sky and the universe." Felicity laughed and adjusted as Sara's hands ghosted along her sides. "And nothing is ever the same, ever again."

"That's the worst?" she asked, pushing away Sara's messy morning hair from tickling their noses. A clothed Sara was beautiful. A naked Sara was making Felicity's brain overheat.

"Yeah, because then you're stuck with me," Sara grinned, cocksure and plotting.

"I don't know if I can stomach eggs for the rest of my life," Felicity taunted.

The room erupted with laughter as Sara found herself tickling the already giggling doctor as retribution.

"I can also make toast," she promised, both heaving and trying to catch their breath. Felicity held Sara's wrists so she couldn't make her giggle anymore than she already had. She gave the princess atop her a nod and smile, unable to think.

Sara never thought she would be so happy, even if this was momentary. Hair wild and messy, lips grinning happily, shoulders lit by skin, Sara made Felicity pray that time would stop. She wanted this moment to never end, and that terrified her.

In the quiet, the morning raged outside, and Sara leaned forward, slow and soft, and kissed Felicity because she was beautiful and her lips needed kissed. She held her cheeks and started slow, thought that didn't last for long. Once Felicity met her eyes and bit her lip, Sara knew how she was going to spend the rest of her morning

* * *

"I would have figured you'd be occupied," Oliver plopped himself on the opposite end of the couch Sara had claimed as her own and was using to leisurely read, but mostly nap upon.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she shrugged, turning the page of her book without finishing the previous one.

"Oh, you know," he said, sing-song. "Your daring adventure that kept you out all night. I think there was a doctor who is easily flustered involved." Sara grinned into her book and looked at him over the top of it. He had that mischievous tinge to his smile that meant he was in a mood to annoy her.

"I can't... I have no idea..." she shook her head and picked the book up again to hide her growing grin.

"Come on," he heaved a huff and let his head roll on the back of the couch. "I'm trying to be supportive and junk and... listen... to what you have to say. Plus you owe me fifty bucks."

Sara rolled her eyes and tossed her book on the table, giving up on the peace and quiet that she'd shrouded herself in through the early afternoon. It was easier to pretend to read and categorically focus on what was happening with Felicity. She didn't want to, but all Sara could do was pick apart their relationship and what it meant and what it could mean, and what would happen next.

"It went well," she offered.

"How well?" he eyed her suspiciously.

"Really well," she laughed, stretching happily. "Really well," she repeated, remembering the way Felicity's shoulders shook and back arched and hips bucked and breath hitched and stopped and gasped. "Really really well."

"Does this mean we'll be seeing her around?" he prodded mercilessly and aloof.

"Definitely not," Sara shook her head and crossed her legs. "I'm keeping her as far away from the palace as I can, for as long as I can."

"Oh, you know that won't be very long," he waved his hand dismissively. "Where is she now?"

"Unlike us," Sara sat up and stretched her back. "She has a job. It was some long, science-y titled surgery."

"Can you imagine?" he whistled appreciatively.

"I saw it once," Sara nodded, just as astonished by the idea. "She watched a heart beating in a chest. And she put it there. It was... yeah. I still can't believe it."

"Can you just explain one thing for me?" Oliver asked, unable to grasp the idea of what Sara had seen and what it meant. It was beyond him, and he could only appreciate it in the abstract and leave it there. His sister looked at him and yawned again despite it being only after lunch. "How in the world did all of this happen? I mean... how in the world did you fall for a foreign doctor?"

"Shit," Sara realized. "I forgot she was foreign." For a second she thought about it and decided that it was only fitting that there was another strike against Felicity. She could see the appalled headlines now: _Princess Gay, Which is Fine, but with a Foreigner!?_ or _Gay Princess International Love Affair._ Not the most catchy, but they hit the proper chords. Sara caught her brothers eye as he waited expectantly. She just groaned, already hating this. "How did all of this happen?" she repeated.

"I know she came for a meeting, I get that, but I mean... you have tons of meetings. And next thing I know you want to date her."

"I don't know," Sara shrugged. "It was honest. She was genuine. It was nice. I can't explain it really. She just appeared and the sky is blue. I wish I could explain it better, but I can't. I want to get to know her. I've never wanted that before."

"You like her then?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I like the parts I've seen of her. I'm excited to see more. She's complex in subtle ways. I think I figure out one part and I figure out that I didn't know anything to begin with. She's kind and funny and sweet and very much true to herself, which is rare."

"Reasonable enough," he patted her knee.

"I'm already sick of just you guys nitpicking it. I don't know if I can do this with the whole world watching." Answering her brothers questions felt confusing. Sara could barely vocalize what she was feeling about inanimate objects or events that occurred in the past. This was exhausting to try to articulate the indescribable pull that she felt towards the doctor. But it was there and it felt like happiness.

"Good luck with Mom." And with that he stood and made his way out of the room, leaving Sara stunned and remembering how hard this was going to be.

* * *

Felicity enjoyed surgery. She was good at it. She had slender fingers and steady hands. She had an intricate knowledge of the body and a persistence that led to the ability to focus for long periods of time on the most intricate of processes. And, to top it all off, she had a knack for standing in one spot for multiple hours at a time and being precise and delicate the entire time while blocking out anything but the task at hand.

During school, Felicity never thought she would be where she was now. It was supposed to be ruthless and nasty and competitive, and it was, in ways. But she was simply determined, above all else, to not be like her mother. That was enough to make her work hard enough to resist competition. Her personality didn't naturally lend itself to being considered surgical. She got overly attached to patients, she got throw-up nervous in front of authority figures, she could never raise her voice above slightly inappropriate inside voice level, she was not bossy or cocky or imposing. Yet, when the lights went on and the world faded behind the walls of an operating room, she shone and she became a captain, she became natural leader.

At the end of the day, when got to take off the mask and cap, peel off her scrubs and look at a patient who she helped put back together, she felt a joy that was indescribable. Perhaps because it came with a feeling of satisfaction she'd never known before in her life. She never doubted that this was her life's work. Not for a moment.

Even on days that ended with longer than expected and much more difficult and shaky surgeries than expected, Felicity couldn't imagine doing anything else, though it was harder to see at moments like this.

Checking the chart once more and ordering another round of tests to be done on the hour, Felicity finally left the recovery wing and flopped gracelessly onto the sofa of her office, exhausted and ready for an uncomfortable nap until the results came back in and she would make another prognosis. The hospital was a difficult place to sleep in. Her couch was too short for her long legs. There was the constant activity of life outside. There was the beeper waiting to go off the moment she closed her eyes.

"No!" she shouted, digging her face into the cushion of the couch. Her phone rang anyway, despite her complaint. She answered with more incoherent rambling.

"Felicity?" Sara asked quietly to Felicity's grunt.

"Hi," Felicity said, mouth full of yawn.

"Did I wake you?" her voice was filled with worry.

"No, no," Felicity grunted again, curling up smaller on the couch. "I've been up."

"Oh, okay," Sara nodded to herself, roaming the halls of the East Wing. In the late hour she had only a few guards to evade, though no one usually roamed this area until the once overs in a few hours. "You sound tired."

"Just a long surgery," Felicity yawned again and tried to hide it in her arm. "Long day."

"I'm sorry, I"ll let you go," Sara fretted as she slowed her walk.

"No, no." Felicity repeated herself when she was tired. She also grew stubborn for no reason. "I never know when I'll hear from you again."

"I don't know when I can talk again," Sara confessed.

"Ah, the bed'em and leave'em type."

"I am no such type!" Sara snapped quickly, her feet squeaking against the floor and echoing.

"To be determined."

"Sometimes I'm tempted to tell you that you're not supposed to say things like that to me," Sara grinned and resumed her leisurely stroll. "And then I remember that we're almost dating or whatever, and I guess I can't pull that card anymore."

"Yeah," Felicity said firmly with a smile on her lips after ducking her head into the cushions with a sleepy, elated giggle. "I can say whatever I want, and no guillotine."

"You can't take away all of my fun."

"That's the point of dating," Felicity joked.

"Ah," Sara nodded, coming to the end of the hall and faced with the question of up or down. "No wonder I never was excited about it."

"I'll be fun," Felicity promised. "Make it worth your while," she yawned. "And such."

Sara could hear the tired in her voice and she knew that the doctor on the other end of the line was exhausted. She wasn't really sure why she even called. Sara hated telephones and calls, and after their rather long conversation the only time they'd spoken, it felt daunting, like they'd already peaked and there was no way to beat it. Plus she was in the same city. She was close. But she couldn't go see her. That would be too much. Even Sara understood that, as inexperienced she was in the ways of official dating protocol.

"How did your surgery go?" Sara elected to go up because it would be further from her mother and thus, safer.

"Good. Really well."

"Are you going home soon? I can have a driver pick you up, if you'd like." Sara wasn't sure where the offer came from, but it popped right out of her mouth so easily and so naturally, she didn't want to think about it.

"I think I'm just staying here. I want to monitor post-op labs for the little girl," Felicity rolled over again. "Thank you though."

"I should let you sleep," Sara tried again. She found herself at the foot of a giant painting depicting the siege of her city during some ridiculously old war. Her father used to tell her the stories of each painting when she would get in trouble at school or fight with her brother or grow despondent. For the life of her, she couldn't remember the story for this one but she remembered looking at it with him. Suddenly she felt very much like she lost something.

"Yeah, but you called."

"Yeah," Sara nodded, furrowing her brow at the wall. She took a few steps forward and squinted to see the details that were just blurs at a close inspection. "I like you and I like talking to you. Even about nothing."

"What are you doing?" Felicity grinned and finally settled on her back. She closed her eyes in the quiet that came.

"Right now I'm staring at a portrait of the siege of 1683."

"One of my favourite sieges."

"Yeah, mine too," Sara grinned and took a few steps back and sat upon the ground to stare up at it. She tried to read it, as if she could somehow find the story her father had told her in the brush strokes. Maybe this painting was why she unconsciously and purposefully avoided the upper East hall. Maybe it had everything she ever needed, locked away. "When are you free?"

"I'm never free," Felicity remembered amidst rubbing her tired eyes to keep them alert.

"No off-days? That seems illegal. I can establish a labour law, if you'd like." Sara crossed her feet and continued to stare quizzically at the portrait. She cocked her head to the side, as if a new perspective could help.

"I come in every day. Can't really afford an off day."

"How am I supposed to ask you out?" Sara complained, cocking her head to the opposite side now.

"That's up to you, princess, but I prefer sky writing and amphibious animals as a bribe."

"Do you want to go... do... date things on Friday?" Sara realized she had no idea what that meant. She couldn't just take her to the movies, could she? She couldn't find a restaurant or something and shut it down. She couldn't have Felicity over to run into her mother, or worse, her brother. There'd be no containing either of them.

"I have a surgery Friday afternoon that I've already postponed twice." Felicity was giggly and smiley and couldn't contain herself because she was being asked out by a moody princess.

"Saturday?"

"Sure," Felicity was wiggly on the couch. "I will go in for the morning and then leave early."

"Good, okay then," Sara nodded to herself, still not happy, more so thinking complexly about the problem at hand, both the painting and the date. "I should let you sleep now."

"Yeah," Felicity nodded. "But if you're not busy, you could just... be quiet with me."

"Yeah, I can do that," Sara agreed, coming to her senses for the first time since looking at the picture. She looked down the empty halls and finally closed her eyes to rest her head on the wall behind her.

"Tell me about your painting?" Felicity asked quietly after a moment of silence and with a huge yawn.

"It's huge," Sara began. "And I think I'm supposed to know something about it, but I can't remember."

* * *

There weren't many nights that Moira slept the entire night through since her husband died. The bedroom was too quiet. The wing was always too still. She felt stifled by the overwhelming solitude that came at the end of a day surrounded by others. Most nights she was able to play music or let the television talk to itself in the corner, and it was enough to help her make it through until morning.

Some nights, however, she found a restlessness in her legs and soul that crawled up the walls and scratched at the doors in a doleful, bitter kind of way that made it impossible for her to sit still much less bear the quiet with her normal resignation.

"Don't get up, Felix," she gestured towards the man seated at the end of her hall. "I'm just going for a stroll."

"I can -"

"No no," the regent smiled graciously. "Don't worry. I'm just going to get a drink."

With a hesitated pause, the guard eyed the Queen and thought better of questioning or following. He had grown used to her midnight wonderings and the lack of sleeping hours. Though he tried to refuse it at first, he eventually grew to allow it and take his seat again.

Absently walking through the empty halls, Moira systematically went through the events in pay in her life. If she stayed in the present and what needed to be done today and tomorrow, she didn't have to think about her husband who somehow seemed to creep around the halls at night, whispering memories of what could have been in her ear and making her remember what had.

And though she tried to focus on the meeting tomorrow or maybe the dinner she would attend, she found it difficult to not be distracted in the isolation of the quiet and night. Slowly she simply meandered and allowed herself to get caught up in her own head. Her husband, her son, her daughters, her life. It all weighed on her mind. It was a momentous time and soon it would be all over. She could distract herself with affairs of the state and her job, but she would pass it on to her son shortly, and where would it leave her? Widowed and a workaholic, she didn't know what else to do with her life and she definitely didn't know how to stop. And then there was Thea and her outbursts over her father and her acting out against her mother. It wasn't like it had been with the other two. Thea was different. That was fit to drive anyone mad, all those thoughts swirling around her head.

And then Sara.

Moira cursed her husband for leaving her to deal with it all. She cursed him hard and snorted indignantly as she crept along the quiet halls. She felt loud, as if the thoughts that raged inside of her were screaming and shouting from every muscle in her body and could be heard all over the property. But when she paused and stopped walking, it was perfectly silent, so she began again.

She was not a terrible mother. Deep down she knew that. But she could never quite handle Sara. For some reason she was always removed, always just beyond Moira's comprehension. At moments, she would think she got a glimpse of her, think she understood her, think she managed to grasp some concept or inkling or thought about who she thought her daughter was, but it was always gone a second later, always dancing away from her fingers like the wind, slipping between them like water. Just as Sara felt the pressure of the sword with both side sharpened, so too did her mother. To love a daughter is precious and all-encompassing; to love a country and be loved by a country is much the same. Both were intoxicating and both tore apart a mother.

"But I can't remember." A voice filtered from the upstairs floor as Moira debated these things in her nightly pacing. She stalled at the foot of the stairs and listened as hard as her ears would allow. She walked this route nearly four times per week, and never before had there been another soul awake at this hour.

"I remember what I did though, to deserve that talk," her oldest daughter said, talking to someone. "I ditched some field trip my class was on to the Museum of Natural History... No! It was the Science Museum... Yes, I'm sure. It doesn't matter anyway... I bet you did, nerd." Moira heard her daughter chuckle. She took a seat on the cold steps and remembered the incident. "I actually got pretty far. I hopped a train and made it a good four hours out of the city before I got scared and turned around on the next one... I don't know... I didn't want to go anywhere. I just wanted to go. It might have been the best day of my life, just riding a train for hours. I still think it's the farthest I ever got without anyone knowing who I was. It was my last taste of absolute freedom. And it ironically tasted like pretzels and soda the cooks prepared for my lunch, but that's beside the point."

There was a quiet now in the hall. Moira considered walking up the steps. She considered walking back to her room. Both options left her paralyzed and still with the realization that she missed her daughter severely, probably more than she ever noticed before and despite their proximity. She missed a Sara she might have never known, the quietly confident, easy-going speaker now. She realized how much she didn't know her daughter, just from a few sentences, just from a few words she would have never heard had it not been over-heard.

"That night, after my mom yelled at me, my dad took me on a walk, as he was known to do," Sara continued. Her voice was quieter. Moira struggled to hear it, but she couldn't move. The restlessness left her, tired and feeble. "And we stood right where I'm sitting now. And he told me..." A pause. "He told me..." Another. "I can't remember. I can tell you this because you're sleeping, I'm sure, but I think that if I could remember what he said that day... or any day... maybe it would help with what we're getting into now." A sigh and quiet. "He had stories for everything. He would make me feel... I don't know... He would make me feel better. But my feet brought me here tonight and they won't let me leave, and that has to mean something." Moira leaned her forehead against the railing and sighed. "It's going to be an absolute fuck-storm, and I'm very sorry for that," Sara whispered, almost below Moira's threshold to hear. "But I think you're someone my dad would have liked, and you kind of make me someone I think he would have liked, and that's all I need most days. I've been so angry for the past six years. I've been in the darkness so deep, I didn't even notice it. But I can't anymore... And you're you, so I think we'll be alright."

Moira put her hand over her mouth and held her breath. Her eyes grew too full and she blinked and tried to dry them without acknowledging that she was crying. With that came the epiphany that she had failed her daughter for a long time, and she had done it in perhaps irreversible ways. Sara was her father's. She was her grandmother's. She never belonged to Moira. She never wanted her. And now the mother was doing nothing, could do nothing.

"I should go to bed," Sara explained. "I don't know how to hang up, seeing as you're already asleep and I'm talking to myself. Goodnight, Felicity," Sara said. Moira could hear the smile in her daughter's voice. She could hear the calm and resolve.

Without a sound, the mother walked back across the house while she replayed that dat that Sara spoke about, when she ran away. She remembered the outrage and anger that came in the form of fear in her bones at losing her daughter, the feeling of being an inadequate mother, the feeling of hopelessness against her daughter's will and wildness that would never be broken. She was haunted by the past six years, piecing them together with the difference in her daughter, the difference in her from before the accident and after. She never tried to escape again, Moira realized. Her daughter never so much as stepped a toe out of line because she was the one sleeping in Thea's room when she couldn't calm down. She was the one who convinced Laurel to stay and help Oliver. She was the one that did her duty like a job, and loved like a career while wearing the saddle and prancing around the field, attune to every shift and cluck of the rider atop her.

Yes, Moira had failed. She was failing and she didn't know how to succeed because she had no idea who her daughter was. Without a word she crawled back into her bed and stared at the opposite side of the bed and ran her hand along the empty sheets.


	9. Chapter 9

_Tethered with tears in their eyes_  
_May no man's touch ever tame_  
_May no man's reigns ever chain you_  
_And may no man's weight ever defrayed your soul._

There was an antsy-ness that came in the weeks leading up to summer. It was in the air that warmed all day and breezed by in chills at night. Summer teased the days along, promising warm weather and less rain and sunshine that toasted skin and darkened freckles and bleached hair with salt blown the whole way from the coast. Summer promised moments away from the ordinary, when the entire world would be in different mental states. The world was reborn every year in summer.

Sara was eager for it. For the first time in a long time, she was eager for the future and what was coming. She was eager and excited to spend it with Felicity even though she wasn't sure what that meant. But they'd been doing their dance and spending time together for months now, and for the first time, Sara allowed herself to get comfortable. When the restlessness of the awaiting summer to arrive crawled into her bones, she daydreamed about what this summer could mean.

The peacefulness that came in looking out the window of her office and allowing herself to be distracted by the beautiful day outside was only accentuated by the lack of time spent worrying about her mother. As if it had been a Cold War-era standoff, both drew lines and fortified themselves on separate halls, at separate parties, at separate meals, at separate ends of the world. Sara thought it would be more difficult than it had been, to not deal with her mother. But it was surprisingly natural to her. It even helped that her mother seemed unable to even look at her lately.

Yet all of that made it easier for Sara to get distracted.

Summer meant vacation. It meant beach and it meant escaping the city and going anywhere in the world. Sara found herself dreaming of the villa and Felicity in the room with the white walls and view of the ocean that felt like a refuge from the entirety of the world. She thought about being far away from the city and being caged in Felicity's apartment for the past few months, unable to go out and do anything. She daydreamed about the feeling of sand between her fingers and toes, hot and scalding and washed away by freezing cold water. Sara just wanted to escape, even momentarily.

Summer had always been one of her favourite seasons. It was a time when she was allowed to travel with her parents, unlike the rest of the school year. It was the few months she could return from boarding school. It was when she got her first kiss and first horse and first heartbreak and first real adventure. There was a magic that held it apart from the mundaneness of the rest of the year. Thea would be home before going to university. Oliver would be getting married. Things happened in the summer.

"I see I'm not interrupting anything pressing," her mother knocked once and walked into the room. Sara stood quickly, suddenly very far from the daydreams and the window and the beautiful day. In an instant it was all out the door and she was surprised by the woman who appeared.

"Just our long-standing and natural truce," Sara sighed, unwelcoming and un-eager for whatever was happening.

"I've brought someone I'd like you to meet," the queen said, ignoring Sara's comments and invitation to sit. "And I would like you to be on your best behaviour so we can figure out... _this... _situation we've found ourselves in."

"_Situation_?" Sara repeated, tasting the word incredulously in her mouth. She sat down quickly, not surprised at where this conversation jumped off from.

"Sara, if we are going to do this then we are going to do it right," her mother straightened slightly and lifted her chin, her natural position of piety and righteousness and sacrifice.

"_We_?" Sara asked again, caught by words and their meanings amidst others.

"Yes, we," the mother said sternly. This wasn't going as she expected. Though, she tried never to think of it. "I'm trying to be proactive before this gets out of our hands and our ability to control it." Sara was stunned and glad she was sitting already. Her mother didn't mince words, and she didn't know how to actually talk about anything, but here she was, saying a lot of things that meant a lot of things and it was confusing.

"I think I would like to talk to my family before I talk to some... stranger... that you're bringing in so we don't look bad in the papers or press or whatever," Sara realized indignantly. Sara said family, but she meant her mother. She knew there was a conversation that needed to be had before she would feel right with moving forward with whatever was happening with Felicity; before she could move forward with summer and Felicity in a secluded house and all to herself.

"You've made up your mind, and I don't think there's anything else to talk about," Moira crossed her arms and shifted her weight on her feet slightly. "I support you and your... I support... I accept that you are putting yourself ahead of your duties." Sara felt like she'd been kicked in the chest.

"_Ahead of my_... What?" Sara was gobsmacked. "What are you on about?"

"You are second in line for the throne. And if you have to take it? And you don't have children!? If you don't do your part to continue the line..." Moira shook her head sadly. "I don't think you've thought this through."

"So what you're saying is that since there isn't a buffer, since I'm the understudy, I can't be happy? I just have to sit around and wait until Oliver pops out an heir? And even then, I have to make sure it takes the crown before I can pass off my 'duties'?" Sara stood again, unable to understand. The glimpse into her mother's logic was terrifying for more reasons than she could personally admit. "Is that really all I am? A broodmare? A machine to pop out another back up heir?"

"You've made up your mind that it doesn't matter," Moira shrugged. "I've never been able to protect you. I'm trying to... I'm trying."

"Mom, I'm not dealing with this," Sara shook her head and attempted to gather her laptop and phone before shaking her head and pausing.

"You can't just hide away in some studio apartment downtown and pretend you are not a princess," her mother snapped. Sara stalled all movements and looked at her slowly. "What do you even know about her?" she continued. "That you're infatuated. Sara you must think-"

"No," Sara shook her head and held up her hand. "Stop."

"Meet with him," the mother said, stopping her train of thought. "He has information, we've vetted her. We have contingency plans and a press roll out."

"_Vetted_?" Sara felt like a parrot; a disbelieving, astounded parrot incapable of understanding the depth of her own mother's... life? thoughts? feelings? All of it.

"I've put together a folder-"

"What does it tell you, Mom?" Sara snapped, slamming her laptop on the desk. It echoed in the quiet of the two women staring at each other. It was rhetorical, but Moira wanted to answer badly. Sara could see it. She dared her. She wished she would but she knew that it would damage them in ways they couldn't even consider. Sara looked at her desk and splayed her fingers across the papers there and closed her eyes. She shook her head and tried to forget the entirety of her mother's concern and support. If this was it, she would rather have condemnation outright.

"I'm sure it tells you that she graduated med school two years early. Does it tell you that she worked the entire time? What about who she went to her prom with? Does it tell you that she can't stand olives, of any colour, but will eat any pepper that comes in front of her? Or that her mother was a runaround who slept her way across the country for her entire life? Or that her dad was some junkie she met twice and hasn't seen in fifteen years? Does it mention that she is funnier than you'd think, in a quiet, witty kind of way? Or that she's so smart it should be illegal, but she never makes anyone feel stupid?" Sara felt her voice rising with every question. She couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop because this was the first time she'd spoken directly about Felicity to her mother, and the look of pain on her mother's face, as un-placable as it was, was worth it. "Did you know that she can't sit through a movie without talking? Or did you know that she still blushes? That there is a person in the world who still blushes and believes in goodness above all else? Does your report tell you any of that?" She took a deep breath. "I can't even look at you."

Moira stood, silent and achy. She was trying to protect her daughter. Instead she built the wall between them further.

"Great talk, Mom," Sara threw in for good measure as she walked around the desk towards the door. "I'm going to Felicity's. That's her name. That's the name of this _situation_."

With that, Sara slammed the door behind her even though it was her door. She wanted to stand there and slam it repeatedly to work the anger from her bones, but instead she stalked down the hallway and ordered her car brought around and readied. She didn't care that her mother was left there, very much trying to figure things out. All that Sara could realize was that it might be too late for that, completely.

* * *

"And I didn't even see the growth," Felicity sighed, adjusting her legs over Sara's lap. The princess didn't move or acknowledge her at all, for the fifth time that night. Instead she was staring intently at the television absently, eyes glazed over and brow furrowed as if working an intense mathematical equation in her head without even so much as a piece of scratch paper.

"Hey," Felicity nudged her shoulder with her knee. "Anything? Hello? Hi." The princess came to with a startled flinch and looked at Felicity with a lazy smile, as if she had been there the entire time.

"Yes?" she asked, lazily turning her head with a charming smile on her lips.

"Where are you tonight?" Felicity sighed.

Normally, their evenings spent together were so much like a bubble, so solitary for themselves, that seeing Sara bothered by something outside of the walls of her apartment bothered Felicity and it felt intrusive. Sara felt it as well. The evenings she snuck out to Felicity's were nights that she left the tiara at the door, so to speak, and the rest of her life shed itself in the hallway and she came into the apartment renewed and unburdened. It kept her sane; it helped her make it through the cold war-style stand off she seemed stuck in with her mother. But not tonight. Tonight she couldn't shake it anymore. She knew they were on borrowed time. She knew that things would have to hit the fan sooner rather than later.

"Right here," Sara smiled softly and leaned against Felicity's hip. "Watching this... um... movie."

"We've been watching the news for fifteen minutes," Felicity shook her head and shifted so she was more on her back.

"In my head, I was rewatching the movie... and really thinking about it. As a work of art," Sara tried, explaining with her hands, something Felicity had learned was an indication of fibbery.

"Where are you?" Felicity asked again, searching her face sternly.

When her smile didn't work, Sara grumbled and sighed and dug her face into Felicity's shirt and stomach. Felicity felt her huff, warm and rushed through her shirt. The girl shook her head and continued to grumble and mope.

"Right here," Sara said again, lifting her head, face now pink from suffocating. "I am right here, right now," she promised, chin digging in just above Felicity's navel.

There was something of disbelief, even in Sara's eyes, but she looked so tired and sad that Felicity couldn't ignore it. Things had been going so well for them though, that she was nervous to bring anything up, to push or prod. Sara had a knack for saying only what needed to be said, and even that was never satisfying for the listener though it seemed like a deathbed confession for the speaker.

There evenings together were always simple. Movies and dinner, games and drinks on the balcony. It was probably the being locked up together that drove Sara to feel unfulfilled, Felicity worried as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"You're beautiful," Felicity murmured, touching Sara's cheeks. She felt her own redden at the admission because she wasn't sure she'd ever said it before out loud. "I mean... you know. You're. I. I think that. I mean." She spoke quickly, nervous and jittery for some reason at her words. Sara just ducked her head again. "I never got to say it. And right now. You're here. But you're not here. And I said it."

"I'm here," Sara promised. "If I wasn't here, I couldn't..." Slowly there was a bigger grin appearing on her face as Sara adjusted. She lifted Felicity's shirt slightly and kissed the skin of her abdomen. "This," she grinned that grin that made Felicity shiver. Slowly she pressed her lips to the warm skin. Sara adjusted and kissed along Felicity's ribs, nudging her shirt higher with her nose. "Or... this," she looked up to find Felicity watching her every movement as she tugged on the loop of her jeans and kissed her hip.

Felicity wanted to tell her that her tricks wouldn't work, that she had seen her being absent all night and that she knew something was bothering her. But she could only remember to swallow and move her hips a little and that was all. Sara's hands ran under her shirt, along her back, her breath and hair tickled everything they touched.

"You said you weren't staying tonight," Felicity asked, slipping under Sara as she lithely crawled up the couch. Her arms wrapped around Sara's neck and dragged along her shoulders.

"I don't want to go home," Sara shook her head, hovering over Felicity's lips. The girl beneath grabbed at the collar of her shirt and pulled her closer.

If Sara had to list her favourite things in the world, near the top of the list would be the feeling of Felicity's fingernails slowly raking across her neck and into her hair. It made her feel like what a cat did when it arched its back into a waiting palm. It made her push her hips into Felicity's harder. It made her eyes close tighter and her lungs hum from the deepest part of her diaphragm. It made her work out her shoulders more.

Coming close to that entry on her list would be the tiny noises Felicity made. The feeling of her tiny breaths on her shoulder or neck or lips. The tiny curses on her cheeks that came with hands gripping into skin tighter. Sara craved those noises. She worked hard for them. She craved the grabs and the clenching and the necessity and construction she felt under Felicity's hands.

Felicity was starting to fill a lot of this favourites list for Sara.

"You're staying," Felicity insisted, shaking her head for a second. Sara grinned and nodded in agreement. Sara saw how red and puffy her lips were now and felt oddly proud at her ability to do that. "Then tell me what's going on," Felicity deflated her a second later.

"I'd rather just continue this," Sara wiggled her eyebrows suavely and leaned back down. Felicity turned her head and Sara collapsed atop her in defeat, digging her nose into her collarbone. Sara growled and shook her head, defeated.

"Don't be like that," Felicity rubbed her back as she had her girlfriend atop her. Murmurs tickled her neck in an incomprehensible mumbled language. "Sorry, didn't catch that."

"My mom," Sara sighed, lifting herself onto her elbow. "I think we might have to go public or whatever."

"Well that sounds better than breaking up," Felicity nodded. She was thankful for the weight of the girl atop her. It kept her anchored and it kept her from going into a tizzy of nerves and anxieties. She was not cool, calm and collected when it came to thinking about whatever it meant to be known as the girlfriend of the princess. Not one bit. But for now she tried to pretend.

"My mom is just going crazy. She's driving me crazy," Sara shook her head. She played with the collar of Felicity's shirt and refused to look at her eyes. She felt Felicity's fingertips on the exposed skin of her hip. "Background checks and publicists and strategic meetings. It's like she's being supportive in the most business-like way she can. It's driving me crazy. She's crazy." Sara's fingers grew more agitated as her words spilled out.

"None of that makes sense to me," Felicity shook her head, rubbing Sara's cheek.

"She wanted me to sit there and talk to some... analyst or advisor about... us, about our relationship," Sara sighed, finally meeting Felicity's eyes. She felt guilty for some reason. She felt the same agitation spring up as it had when her mother proposed it. "She couldn't even talk to me... look at me."

"Well, what did he say?" Felicity asked. She swallowed away her nerves, hoping to keep them locked away deep down because Sara needed her right now and she couldn't freak out like she normally would have wanted.

"I didn't even meet him. I stormed out. It was quite an exit," Sara shrugged sheepishly. Felicity tried not to laugh but it was difficult. Her girlfriend groaned and ducked her head into her shoulder once again.

"What do you want to do?" Felicity asked, smoothing her hair and kissing her forehead. "You should probably talk to him. I'm sure this is going to be complicated, and maybe some help would make it easier."

"I don't know," Sara shook her head. "I want this. Just this."

"I don't really understand the thing with your mom. But whatever you decide I'm alright with. I don't have much experience with this whole thing."

"You don't understand. She just... she had a way of being so... lost in her own world. She doesn't care."

"She cares," Felicity tried. "She's trying the only way she knows how. Mechanical and by the book."

Sara shook her head again and ducked into Felicity's side. She was so in her head with all of it already, from the fight with her mother to the rage she stewed in the entire day, Sara was sick of it all and just wanted to retreat into the bubble again. She understood they had to figure out what was happening, but she also knew that her head was going to explode if she continued to think about it.

"Can't we just run away? I have a thing for trains," Sara tried, not wanting to think about it any longer.

"You will have to talk to your mother eventually," Felicity stopped her.

"Why don't you just come over? She can't throw a fit in front of company. We can start small, at my place, and then... I guess... we'll meet the guy?"

"Just to see what he has to say," Felicity nodded.

"Do you think you could handle being back at the palace?" Sara grinned, re-situating herself. Her hand pulled at Felicity's shirt and splayed across her ribs. Felicity rolled her eyes.

"I think I'll be fine."

"You jumped me last time you were there."

"I did not-"

"You pushed me down and made out with me real hard."

"That was you!"

"I don't remember it that way, and I'm a princess."

"You're a dirty, rotten liar, that's what you are," Felicity giggled and squirmed under her girlfriends tickling fingers. Sara blew a raspberry on her neck and made her cringe and pull her tighter.

"That's kind of rude," Sara taunted.

"It's the truth," Felicity shrugged. Sara stared at her questioningly. "Fine, how about you ask me over so I can prove it?"

"Only if you agree to a sleepover."

"At your place?" Felicity swallowed and felt her smile fade.

"Oui," Sara eyed her nervously under her lashes.

"Should I bring a sleeping bag and my big girl pyjamas?"

"I think I have a big enough bed," Sara shrugged, sitting up a bit. She swept Felicity's hair aside and ran her thumb along her forehead and eyebrow softly. "I have my own wing, don't worry."

"I wasn't... I hadn't even thought..."

"This is how I want to start," Sara decided, firming her jaw and acting decidedly. She could take baby steps. "And you can bring whatever pyjamas you would like. Though I vote for those ones... with the lace. The red ones." She had a coy grin that hid her nervousness.

"This is it then?" Felicity nodded and took a deep breath. "The moment where it is real or not."

"Yeah," Sara agreed sadly. The _or not_ part was something she feared.

"Alright," Felicity pursed her lips, business and official. "What's the plan? How do we do this?"

Sara just kissed her senseless.

* * *

"It's nice to officially meet you," Thea extended her hand and shook the doctor's graciously.

"Welcome back," Felicity shook continuously. Sara watched with an amused expression, recalling her introduction to the civilian. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"Easy," Sara leaned over and whispered to her girlfriend. Felicity smiled too widely and finally dropped Thea's hand.

"Come on and sit," Thea graciously invited the girls to the couch to resume the spot she had taken up since the afternoon. "I was just being lazy and watching this horrible reality show."

Thea watched her sister smile and guide the nervously smiling doctor to the sofa. When Sara had suggested that she invited Felicity over, the youngest sister was perplexed and excited. It'd gone on too long without proper introductions being made, and Thea was eager to meet whoever was giving her sister such a good mood over the past few months. Even if it was just in emails or quick phone calls, there was something that changed in Sara's demeanour and Thea was thankful to have her sister back as opposed to the dutiful clone who took her place over the years.

"So, Felicity, how's the sick kid business?" Thea started, absently fiddling with her hair.

"Really good," the doctor in question nodded, looking at her girlfriend first to see if that was the proper answer. "I mean, obviously not really good because I deal with severely ill children, and business shouldn't be good, but the business that we do have is going well I guess, I mean what I have to do, I just mean that I work with children and it shouldn't be good business, but we work hard to fix... them..."

Sara was in love with the way Felicity knitted her eyebrows after a ramble as if she was trying to decipher the words she just spilled. Thea saw it. She saw the look in her sister's eyes and the smile that was genuine and amused and utterly... amazed. That was the word for it. Spellbound. Astounded. Enamoured.

"How's the uh, how's the princess game?" Felicity tried, clearing her throat slightly. Sara put her feet up on the coffee table and relaxed, hoping it would help Felicity give up her rigid posture.

"Oh, you know," Thea waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sure it's about to get a lot more interesting." Sara shook her head and laughed to herself. "I'm trying to figure out what would complete the circle of deviant behaviour. I've whittled the list down to leaked sexts and cocaine. Or meth."

"As a doctor, I really shouldn't be hearing this," Felicity shook her head. Sara and Thea just laughed.

"She's joking, Smoak," Sara patted her knee before nudging her with her shoulder. "She's always trying to one up me. I cause a circus with a girlfriend and now she wants to smuggle endangered species."

"No no," Thea shook her head seriously. "I can't handle the smell. No animals for me. Too mess."

"I vote cocaine," Oliver strolled in confidently, tussling Thea's hair.

"That's too predictable," Thea asserted indignantly, slapping at his hands.

"It's good to see you again, Dr. Smoak," Oliver kissed her hand after kicking at Sara's feet. "I'm sorry this one has kept you hidden away from us. I promise we're not that bad."

"That's not what she told me," Felicity shrugged innocently.

"I knew it! Spreading lies and scaring her off before we get a chance to really scar her," Oliver shook his head and took a seat near Thea as Sara rearranged her seats.

"Who knew you could crack a joke," Sara grinned and settled back in beside her girlfriend.

While Oliver and Felicity were properly introduced and bonded over their brief run-in, Thea sat quietly and watched with little interjections to the conversation. They did well enough holding it up without her, and she was infinitely curious. She watched the way Sara laughed and when embarrassed, ducked her head into Felicity's shoulder, as if it were a habit to be bashful and look for security in a sympathetic shoulder. And Felicity would continue laughing and simply pat the side of Sara's head before poke fun at her as well. There was the way Sara snuck peeks at Felicity, watching her intently when she spoke, sitting and looking at the two other siblings, almost proudly, when Felicity said something remarkable or interesting or anything at all, really.

They were not overtly feely, and Thea appreciated that because anything over the top would bore her to death. This was more interesting. Her sister spoke in whispers and yelled out of fear, like a lion roaring. Lions aren't most dangerous when you can hear them; it is when they are silent and unseen that they are deadly and maneaters.

Despite Felicity's evident nerves, there was a confidence in the relationship. Thea almost couldn't imagine how daunting it must be for her to be there at that moment, to not only face a new girlfriend's family, but the royal family in the huge house with the servants and the news coverage looming on the horizon. She might have been a ball of nervous energy, but Felicity was here, trembling before the firing squad, cigarette between her teeth and waiting, not flinching. It was kind of remarkable and possibly the bravest thing Thea could have thought of ever seeing.

It was only in that moment though, that Thea suddenly understood everything that happened for her sister. When she laughed and worked to make Felicity laugh, there was this creeping sureness back in her, an aliveness that radiated from her smile and gestures. She reminded Thea of their father. She became someone who she shoudl have always been, and for Thea it was mesmerizing.


End file.
